


the building of a nest

by nishanightray



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Introspection, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Post Part 3, Slow Burn, What-If, Yamato's p.o.v, Yamato-centric, other minor pairs in the sidelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 01:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16007402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishanightray/pseuds/nishanightray
Summary: It’s not like they won’t be IDOLiSH7 anymore – their bond is deeper than ever, reinforced by their will not to lose each other – but to Yamato it feels like his world is falling apart.And now, it’s also being turned upside down by the revelation that Yaotome Gaku likes, likes him.





	the building of a nest

**Author's Note:**

> a.k.a. something i started writing six months ago bc i wanted gakuyama domestic fluff and then it turned into 20k.  
> English's not my mother tongue but I try,,
> 
> (minor pairs: ryunagi, yukimomo, bantsumu, tenharu)

**_I. overgrown garden_ **

**  
**

_[the bird,_

_redbreast, restless,_

_cried a lonely song –_

_for his garden had turned barren,_

_he sang, but he was the one_

_who had pecked out all the seeds]_

 

IDOLiSH7 is the name that ties the seven of them together.

Everyone came here with broken hearts and somehow ended up stitching their pieces together to form a whole. It’s something related to _trust_ , Yamato thinks. It’s like saying that there’s no Idolish unless they’re all seven together, and the sheer force behind the name makes him shiver (he’s not ever sure that their manager is aware of what she’s done by giving them that name, but she sure is something else).

The fact is, that he’s never been good at this whole ‘building lasting ties with people’ thing. Being surrounded by these guys is like finally getting some fresh air –they all look so young and dashing and full of dreams, everyone staring ahead, towards a blue sky promising many things.

(Yamato tries to give it up, because he feels like the only one who can’t see that sky.)

What he learns later, however, is very different from the first impression.

He learns that Sougo’s wings have been tarnished, stepped on to the point that he doesn’t know how to spread them anymore, that he feels like he shouldn’t dare to. He learns that Tamaki has fallen from his nest when he was too young, and he’s still so innocent that he feels too much, too strongly; he learns that Mitsuki is afraid to fly, too scared of falling to the ground, all too aware that there’s no safety net in the world of adults. He learns that Riku has the most beautiful voice, and the most horrible weight attached to his wings. He learns that Iori would rather be the sky for the others than fly on his own, and that Nagi hides feathers of unknown colors under a blinding, charming white.

And, most unexpectedly, he learns that there is a place in this nest even for someone like him.

 

 

*

 

 

His relationship with his father hasn’t always been this strained.

There was a time when Yamato would be happy when his father came to his house, bringing him little gifts, toys, at times books, as though he’d got hands and pockets always full of bread and he pulled it out and scattered crumbles to feed a little bird who was too hungry to notice the danger and step back. Yamato knows now he was too hungry for his father’s love to see what a beautiful cage he’d built around his child. At times, when he was a teen and felt extremely lonely, he would wish to go back in time, back when he didn’t know and just feeding on crumbles was enough to feel fully satiated; but he is not that boy anymore, so he just takes the flowers his father has sent him and throws them in the trash, not even bothering to read the card that came with them.

He won’t feed off kind words anymore. He is the boy who ran from that house, careful not leave crumbs leading back home, only to build his own cages by himself.

Right now he feels disgusted to the point it gives him nausea to stare at them, these expensive-looking flowers that did nothing wrong.

Even if he can’t think of them as pretty, he turns them into wishes and ‘what if-s’ and gives them to his comrades as a present.

“They can be from whoever you want,” he says and hopes no one will notice that he’s the only one who didn’t make a wish. At times like this, what he likes most is taking a step back and watching the full bloom from far away, like a bird checking on his garden from up above – for too long he has thought nothing would ever grow in his garden again, yet it’s now full of beautiful, simple colors. They’re all wild flowers, growing freely, trying to reach towards the sun. There is no place for those white flowers to fit in.

And he’ll do anything and everything to protect this overgrown garden, so that it won’t turn barren again.

 

 

*****

He’s never done anything but run for all of his life – run away from his father, from his friends, from his own guilty and miserable self. Maybe he was tired of it, and that’s why he finally stopped. He wants to treasure the name Tsumugi bestowed upon them. He wants to make these people his home.

Yamato is overcome by all of these thoughts as he dials his father’s number, his fingers trembling, his palms sweating. He doesn’t know how to start or how to end, and he decides that he doesn’t want to tell his father more than necessary. He finds himself being jealous of what he has now, far from ready to share it with his father. It sounds petty even to him, but the truth is that his trust won’t be earned so easily again.

It’s okay, he tells himself. You are allowed to be selfish. You are allowed to simply _want_.

His heart starts racing as he hears the first rings. His chest is still warm from before, his throat parched from speaking so much.

It’s strange that something which terrified him so much before now brought him peace. He feels much calmer now that he bared every bit of his soul; never in his dreams he’d imagine that his friends and comrades would accept him so easily, so happily. And maybe it’s true that his father loved, _loves_ him. Yamato thinks that the person he is right now could believe these words; he feels more benevolent towards his father. However, that doesn’t mean that he will be forgiven right away – it’s just that Yamato doesn’t feel like picking up a fight anymore.

He decided that the only fights he’ll take up from now on will be to protect the things that are truly important to him, trying his hardest, with no hesitation – IDOLiSH7, their dream, _our dream_.

When his father finally picks up, Yamato squeezes the phone in his hand and hesitates; then he imagines his comrades by his sides, pushing him forward, and it makes him relax a bit. He starts talking despite the fact that his mind is still blank.

 

*****

The first impression he has about Gaku Yaotome is that he’s a _carnivore_ , and that apparently _he will eat you_ (he can’t believe someone like Kujou chose to phrase it that way).

The second impression is worse. Yamato will never forgive anyone messing with the people precious to him, and thinks _Yaotome should keep his hands to himself_. Literally. Their manager doesn’t seem interested either, apart from being a fan of Trigger, but on that level Riku, Mitsu and Sou are even more hardcore fans (that’s not the issue).

What he learns later is that Yaotome is a good idol, a good leader and even a good person. Stubborn. Honest to a fault. Absolutely tactless, but lacking of any ill will. By now, Yamato would even say that he likes Yaotome as a person. He doesn’t hate this type of person, to say the least – heck, it might even be his weakness (he’s surrounded by simpleminded, honest guys after all).

That said, listening to Yaotome crying over spilled milk isn’t the way he wanted to spend the evening.

He normally enjoys drinking with TRIGGER. Tsunashi always turns into a mess (anyone would believe he’d hold his alcohol a lot better with his build, and they couldn’t be more wrong), but he’s a cheerful happy drunk who laughs at anything; the worst that can happen is that his regional dialect slips out, making anything he says totally incomprehensible to anyone around him – although Yamato strongly suspects that Nagi actually gets most of it, since he can apparently learn any language in less than three months. Rather, judging from how red Nagi’s ears turned, it’s extremely likely that he knows perfectly what Tsunashi’s telling him, but for some reason he’s choosing to ignore him. Yamato wonders why he decided to stay in the first place. Maybe Nagi just wants to brag a little about being finally twenty and thus having access to alcohol in Japan, too (honestly, he has all the rights to brag, since he _can_ actually keep it together a hundred times better than any of them, despite drinking the same amount. Damn, Nagi, how?).

Kujou Tenn is nowhere to be found; it’s likely that he already went home with the other minors and ditched his comrades, probably because he already guessed how it would end. Yamato kind of wishes he’d know better, too – if he knew, maybe he wouldn’t find himself stuck with Yaotome, who has been using his shoulder to literally cry on it for the last hour or so. It’s honestly terrible because Yaotome usually _doesn’t_ waste himself like this, he’s normally way better than this, and because he somehow still manages to be handsome even with dishelleved hair and bloated, reddened eyes. He’s not complaining loudly, nor is he whining about anything – he isn’t really talking at all, just hiccupping softly, which Yamato finds more worrying, actually.

“Hey. Yaotome?” He whispers, nudging his side with the can of beer he’s holding. Yaotome hums and buries his face deeper into his shoulder. He can see his silvery hair curling on the back of his head, falling on the shaved nape (wait, when did he get an undercut?), and it’s a little cute. Yamato doesn’t know what to say to bring him back to life.

“Uhm… Are you okay?” He asks, feeling stupid because Yaotome’s obviously not _okay_.

After one beat more, Yaotome finally raises his head and looks at him, frowning, as though he’s wondering why Yamato’s here; he _stares_ right at him, but his eyes, still glassy and unfocused, are not as piercing and intense as usual. They’re definitely too close for comfort, Yamato decides, so he puts down the beer and grabs Yaotome by the shoulders to push him away, gently but firmly. The gestures makes Yaotome frown deeper.

“Nikaidou.” He says it as though he just recognized him. Yamato nods and decides to go along with it, slightly curious of where this is going. He’ll take _anything_ for a change of pace.

“Yes, that’s me. Good job, Yaotome.”

Yaotome blinks, perplexed. “Good… Good job to you, too…?” He replies, unsure. “What time is it…?”

“Did you fall asleep? It’s still ten p.m., the night’s young.” Though Yamato sure hopes that Yaotome doesn’t intend to spend all of it crying on his shoulder. His shirt is already wet enough.

Yaotome falls silent in thought, and Yamato can’t tell what’s going on in that thick head of his. Somewhere behind their backs, he can hear Nagi, Mitsuki and Tsunashi laughing loudly, cheering on Sougo – Yamato’s not sure he wants to turn around to find out what’s happening and how many things Sougo will regret the morning after. Nagi’s probably relieved that Tsunashi’s attention is no longer focused on him only. The words of _Secret Night,_ sung in a loud, slurred voice, without any musical base, mingle in the background noise of the bar.

“I should go home,” Yaotome finally mumbles. He actually tries to stand up and gather his things, only to stumble back against the table and having to support himself with one hand on the stool he’s been sitting on. Yamato instantly holds out both of his arms by instinct, in case Yaotome falls.

“Hey, hey, careful there. It’d be bad for TRIGGER if its leader injures his handsome face, you know?” He can already imagine Kujou’s comments on it. He turns just in time to catch a waiter. “Sorry, can we have some water? Yes, thanks— Okay, that’s fixed. Yaotome, how do you feel?”

“Awful,” is the curt answer that he gets. Yaotome seems to be deep in thoughts again, but judging from his face he’s not reaching the conclusions he wants. Meanwhile, the waiter comes back with the water; Yamato fills a glass and extends it to Yaotome, who unexpectedly drinks it all in one go without any sort of resistance. He empties his glass, then fills and empties another after sitting down again. This time, though, he slams the glass on the table and then stops to look at Yamato with dead eyes.

“Nikaidou, am I handsome?” He asks, completely serious. Taken aback, Yamato hesitates, then quickly looks around to ascertain than their friends are not listening in on them, but luckily Sougo knows by heart _every_ single songs TRIGGER has ever made, so his little show is going to be long and excruciatingly embarrassing. Yamato mentally apologizes to Sougo for not stopping him and hopes that Mitsuki, Tsunashi and him will all forget about it in the morning (too bad Nagi will remember it all). After a minute or two, he finally answers.

“Well… objectively, I’d say yes.”

“So you think I am handsome.”

“Objectively,” Yamato insists, he knows he’s being petty, but somehow it seems necessary to add it.

“Am I cool?”

Well, this is getting a little too embarrassing.

“Hey, where is your usual self-confidence? I thought you didn’t waste time in self-deprecation,” Yamato says. He distinctly remembers Yaotome saying that… It was actually pretty impressive. Yamato admires people who have things he lacks. “Yes, yes, you are cool…?” 

“Then, why?!” Yaotome suddenly shouts, standing up abruptly, and his unexpected outburst makes Yamato jump almost out of his skin. He widens eyes at the sight of more tears filling the corner of Yaotome’s eyes, but the man quickly wipes them away with his arm. He seems to be soberer than before, meaning the water’s starting to help, and sighs as he covers his eyes with a hand.

“Why did it end like this, then,” he says, and Yamato can feel that it’s not really directed to anyone. “I poured myself into this love… I really wanted to make her happy. Did my feelings not reach her properly? Was my confession not good enough? Was I not good enough…?”

“Whoa, whoa, there— Yaotome, calm down for a moment.” Yamato grabs his arm, forcing him to sit again. “I kind of get what’s going on, but I think you’re taking it wrong. I mean… I don’t really think you should take it like that. Love is not supposed about being enough or not enough, isn’t it…? I mean, she can’t help that she doesn’t have feelings for you, and neither can you. It just happens. You did all you could.”

Yaotome stares at him, somewhat pitifully, making him feel awkward.

“W-what?”

“Aren’t you… mad that I confessed? You didn’t want me to court Tsumugi, right? You should be happy I got rejected…” Yaotome says, still looking at him.

“Okay, first of all, I am not that petty. I’m not happy that you are miserable, geez.”

Yaotome stays very still for a moment, then sighs again. “Yeah, I… I know. I’m sorry for saying that,” he says, and actually hints a smile. “I know that you are not like that. Thank you for what you said.”

“Did it make you feel better?”

“No, but maybe later it will,” Yaotome says, completely honest. “Right now my head hurts too much… It’s been a while since I drank like this, it was stupid of me. As I thought, it’s better if I go home early. Thanks for taking care of me.” This time his smile is a little wider and it makes Yamato feel warm.

What he knows for certain is that it’s not like Yaotome at all to show such a weak, vulnerable side, and he definitely shouldn’t feel proud that Yaotome’s choosing to show it to him of all people (expect that it _does_ make him feel a little warmer). Maybe he’s even fonder of Yaotome than he thought, or maybe he’s just taking pity on him; either way, Yamato knows that he can’t leave him alone. He feels… _protective_?

“I can call a taxi for you if you want,” he suggests, fiddling with his phone.

“Thanks. I just need to retrieve Ryuu and— Is that Osaka on the table?”

Yamato leans forward on the table to see past Yaotome. Sougo moved from _Secret Night_ to _Daybreak Interlude_ in the blink of an eye and seems determined to perfectly carry out Kujou’s position.

“Yes, it’s definitely him.” He notices that Nagi’s recording everything with his smartphone; now there’s no way out of this. Meanwhile, Yaotome goes from looking disoriented to looking a little impressed.

“Does he really know the entire choreography  of it?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

For years Yamato’s been sure that he didn’t have the right to belong anywhere he went. At times he wished he could leave everything behind and live on his own, somewhere far away where his past wouldn’t catch up to him (by now, he knows that there’s no place like that in the world). For years he’s been terribly afraid of attachments, but everything changed with IDOLiSH7.

It all started with them, really, so it’s only natural that this stage of his life is ending with them.  

He can almost see the ribbons tied to his fingers -they all come in colors, yellow, orange, red, azure, purple, blue, and green. His world has been painted in these colors and there’s no way to turn it back to grey. When the moment will come, he knows he won’t be able to cut these ribbons and say goodbye. He’s never been so afraid of let go of something in his life.

Separation, however, is a part of a life. This time, he doesn’t even want to run – on the contrary, he would stop time if he could.

 

 

 

*

*

*

 

 

 

**__**

**_II. birds of a feather_ **

**  
**

_[so he started picking up_

_twigs and straws and ripen fruits -_

_all over again,_

_to build his own nest-_

_and then,_

_he picked up a new song:_

_‘let me rest on your hand,_

_until a new season blooms’]_

 

 

 

 

Their first kiss is terrible.

Well, no, the kiss isn’t –the kiss is dry, sour like the aftertaste of the beer they’re drinking, and most of all short, just a flicker of warmth against his lips before leaving him cold again. Yamato stares at Gaku wide-eyed, slow on the uptake because his mind’s still a bit hazy with the alcohol in his system, not quite believing what the other has just done. He only distantly realizes that he might have leaned into the kiss. He has definitely not drunk enough for this, so when his heart and brain finally manage to catch up, the first instinct to kick in is a defensive one. A few seconds after the kiss, Yamato head-butts Gaku in return, and that’s what’s really _terrible_ about it.

His forehead collides with Gaku’s, missing his nose by mere centimeters (which is only fortunate because at least there’s no blood), and then they’re both falling back on Gaku’s black leather couch, with their hands flying to their foreheads, growling in pain.

“God, Nikaidou,” Gaku manages to groan, “why?!”

Yamato takes this as his cue to leave. He’s just realized the gravity of his sins –he’s hit an idol’s face, and on top of that it’s a face that makes a large part of the population swoon, a face that is worth millions of yens. God, he hopes they won’t make him pay for it. He just _can’t_ cause any problems to his workplace. Another self-defensive mechanism kicks in: to get the hell away from here. Now. While Gaku is still grumbling in pain, his eyes fixed on the spinning ceiling of his room, Yamato scrambles to get up and make a run for the door; but he’s still a bit tipsy, his legs give out on him, and he trips in the leg of the table in his panic, which sends him crushing on the parquet. He hardly manages to put his hands in front of him in order to prevent further injuries on his face, including breaking his glasses, but he thinks he might have given himself some bruises on his body and he’ll definitely have body pains. It would be not an understatement to say he aches from head to toe right now, and his forehead still hurts so much that it seems like it could split in two, so he really can’t find in himself the strength to get up and try to run again. It does look a little stupid now –weirdly enough, the fall helped clearing his head from both the alcohol and the panic.

“Are you okay?” Gaku asks after a while that he’s been lying on his floor. He sounds concerned and Yamato just _knows_ that he won’t tell anyone, he won’t threaten him or sue him. Gaku’s just not the type to take advantage of other’s shows of weakness. That’s what’s disgustingly charming about him –that he’s actually a really good person, almost too good to be his friend, _definitely too much to be kissing him_.

“Sorry, I… I panicked,” Yamato grumbles, hiding his face. Gaku hums under his breath.

“I thought the timing was right. You even leaned into it, you know,” he says, then pauses. “Or maybe you don’t. How drunk are you?” It’s really an excellent question. Yamato could easily take advantage of this –make it into an excuse, _Sorry_ , _I was too drunk to remember_ – but it just doesn’t seem right to lie about it to his face, so he does the best next thing about it: he ignores it, choosing not to lie but not to give out the truth either.

“I thought you liked girls,” he says instead. He says girls, but really means one girl –although Gaku stated many times that he gave up on her, for some reason Yamato couldn’t bring himself to truly believe it. Maybe that’s why he was so oblivious. He wonders how many signs he failed to see.

“Yeah,” Gaku breathes out, “but I also like you. At least, I might. No, I think I do. I mean, after all, it really seemed _right_ to kiss you.”

“How drunk are _you_?” Yamato turns the question on him, although he knows it’s not fair –but he’s never been one to play completely fair.

“Just slightly tipsy. That’s not why I kissed you. I did because I wanted to. I told you, it felt right…” Gaku mumbles, seemingly embarrassed. His cheeks are fiercely flushed and now Yamato knows it’s not just because of the alcohol in his system.

“To be honest, I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” Gaku says. As if he could ever be anything but honest at all. His straightforwardness is so damn annoying – it might be his strongest point. The words seem to slip out before he can even control them, but his voice is firm, like he’s not regretting them one bit. _Some self-confidence, he has_. Another strong point…

“I think I like, _like_ you.”

Yamato groans. It’s totally unfair how endearing it sounds, despite the fact that Gaku talks like he’s twelve and has never had a crush before.

Right now, though, it doesn’t seem important. Yamato’s too busy trying to metabolize the confession, his brain working faster than he can follow. It sends another rush of panic through his mind, or maybe it’s just adrenaline. Excitement. The bitter aftertaste of the beer, the sour kiss he still feels on his lips.

Kiss. Kissing. Gaku’s been thinking about kissing him.

“ _Stop_ ,” he whispers, and he really doesn’t know what or who he’s referring to. Stop talking? Stop thinking about it? Just stop, stop, stop –all these _feelings_ are getting to his head ( _make them stop_ , _Yaotome, what have you done to me?_ ). It feels like being dragged underwater, and he forgot to breathe in enough air before plunging in.

He just _knows_ that Gaku’s watching him carefully, probably noticing how red his ears and nape are by now. He probably wants to touch, but for some reason he stay still; maybe he’s afraid of getting another head-butt. Yamato’s kind of relieved that Gaku’s not trying to make him look at him, although he’s probably not that happy about it – Gaku Yaotome is the type of guy who wants you to look directly at his face when you’re talking to him. Yamato know it’s not fair to deny him that, but can’t help it at all.

Now that his mind’s clearing up, he vaguely remembers himself leaning for a kiss, even closing his eyes... It feels like he’s just walked right into a trap and he can’t believe he’s been had by Gaku of all people.

“Hey, Nikaidou…” Gaku clears his throat by coughing lightly. “Can I… kiss you again?”

Yamato flushes to the point he thinks he’s going to boil. _What the heck._

“No. Nope. Definitely not— Just… stop staring at me so much!” He ducks his face in his arms, willing for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

Gaku coughs again.

“I’m not,” he says, but he’s a terrible liar.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

There’s a discolored green cup on the kitchen sink. The cup naturally stands out as it is the only unique, non-disposable object sitting on his sink, among several packages of plastic dishes and cutlery that he regularly buys. It was part of a colorful set that Tsumugi bought and split between the members as a gift on a heartwarming Christmas, two years before; no matter how old and worn out it is by now, Yamato can’t find it in himself to buy a new one. Apart from his toothbrush, it’s almost the only thing he put in place, leaving the rest into the only box he packed up.

Unpacking things has a feeling of finality that Yamato dislikes – that’s why his flat looks still fairly new, still uninhabited, with untarnished furniture that has never been filled. He doesn’t own many things to begin with; he’s not very greedy and he’s never been hung up on personal items, and there’re only few things he’s truly attached to (one of them is, of course, Musashi; his little cleaning robot can be often seen moving from one room to another with swift elegance, dutifully sweeping every corner of the house).

The truth is that Yamato is a creature of habit, which means he’s terribly awful at making changes in his life. Although he usually excels at relaxing and going with the flow, he shows an unexpected resistance at accepting that his world is being shaken off once again.

Lately he’s feeling like he’s stuck on a jet coaster which goes faster and faster, refusing to let him have some peace of mind. It all happened so fast – IDOLiSH7 reaching the top and shining the brightest out of everyone, then Riku’s popularity skyrocketing and his decision to leave the group to engage with a solo carrier that brought him even more fame, IDOLiSH7 crumbling away without their historical center. Everyone deciding to go solo, apart from MEZZO”, everyone searching for more opportunities, seeing how far they could go on their own and accepting new challenges. Then, half a year later, Otoharu also announced that they would close the dorms.

Used to loneliness and living by myself, Yamato can’t deny he had some troubles adapting to live in dorms, yet he now finds himself unable to accept its disappearance. He knows he’s not the only one who’s going to miss the dorms and, most of all, what they signified to all of them. Losing the building, the rooms, the kitchen, the table where they all squeezed in to eat together – all of it feels like losing a deeper, meaningful connection. And Yamato’s also painfully aware that the dorms he shared with them is the closest thing to ‘home’ he’s ever had. He’s not ready to lose it, yet he’s forced to accept it and move on, he can’t go against it when his juniors aren’t – what kind of leader would that make of him? They are all trying to move forward with their own strength, and he can’t afford to disappoint them. His desire to protect their feelings is what drives him to swallow his fears and doubts, so that he can pat Tamaki’s head, dry Riku’s tears, recommend Sougo to take better care of himself, ruffle Iori’s hair no matter how many times he’ll complain about being treated like a child, and finally give in to Mitsuki and Nagi’s attempts to jump him and hug the soul out of his poor, hurting body. 

There’s a _sakura_ tree outside his flat; his long, now blooming branches often knock at his bedroom window, a cruel twist of fate that only makes him think of his friends more, miss them more.

It’s not like they won’t be IDOLiSH7 anymore – their bond is deeper than ever, reinforced by their will not to lose each other – but to Yamato it feels like his world is falling apart.

And now, it’s also being turned upside down by the revelation that Yaotome Gaku likes, _likes_ him.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

Kujou Tenn has been staring at him fixedly for the past five minutes and the worst thing is that Yamato _knows_ that Tenn knows he’s noticed, but he isn’t doing absolutely anything to hide it. Do all TRIGGER members burst with self-confidence, or what?

“Tenn, stop doing that! It’s so unpolite!” Yamato hears Tsunashi whisper frantically to his friend, not quite managing to actually lower his voice enough for him not to hear (well, it’s good to know that at least _one_ of them has got some decency. God bless Tsunashi Ryuunosuke). However, he can tell that any attempt to intercede is going wasted on Tenn – once he’s set on something, he just won’t drop the ball. Yamato wills himself to keep his cool and instead wonders where Yaotome is. It’s so weird to see just two-thirds of TRIGGER walking by; then he thinks they must think the same way about him and, really, they’re not wrong, because he himself feels pretty weird about this whole ordeal. He’s got lots of experience of participating in programs with TRIGGER, of course. It’s just that this is the first time he’s alone, not surrounded by the rest of IDOLiSH7 – each of them having mainly separate careers now weirds him out, so much that he believes it’s going to take _years_ to get used to it.

TRIGGER somehow stuck together, though; rather, they look even more closely bound. Although starting off the path as a full-time actor was his own decision, Yamato finds himself envying TRIGGER from the bottom of his heart.

He really _tries_ to focus on his script, mostly on things he should not say about his latest movie. He’s not the type to spoil (while Tsunashi, pure, angelic soul, definitely is), but, as they say, better safe than sorry – he doesn’t want to deal with troublesome things, including the director’s complaints, or Yuki’s relentless teasing. The thing is (and he loathes to admit it) that it’s not Kujou’s gaze that is getting him distracted; it’s the unnerving _lack of Yaotome Gaku_ in this room that concerns him. Once he’s thought about it, he can’t will his worry away, and so he walks right into what he knows it’s a terrible mistake – he dares to sneak a glance over his shoulder, looks right where TRIGGER are and unfortunately meet Kujou’s eyes.

Fuck, now he’s done it. The feeble contact seems to be enough to set off Kujou, who abruptly stands from his seat, walks under Tsunashi’s arms as though he’s just a door or something, and goes right towards him. Yamato can feel sweat forming on his neck. For a moment, he entertains the thought of running away, but he’s almost totally certain that it’d be useless. Kujou Tenn is the most lethal, scary twenty-year old he knows.

“Nikaidou Yamato,” Kujou deadpans at him, completely serious. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Care to talk for a moment?”

Yamato turns around, looks at him once, then laughs dryly. “Do I really have a choice?”

“Tenn!” Tsunashi lunges for his friend, placing himself between the two of them, and Yamato isn’t sure who is actually being protected here. Kujou scoffs at him, then turns back to Yamato.

“Good. Let’s have coffee and chat until it starts.” Kujou walks past him and Yamato can’t do anything but follow him. He expects someone will suffer from this exchange – most probably him, or Tsunashi.   

It turns out that Kujou Tenn’s definition of ‘coffee’ involves about nine sugar cubes – which is not only weird and unappetizing, but also really makes you wonder _why_ he’s choosing coffee in the first place. Somehow, it also reminds him of something Iori would do, and so Yamato finds himself swept by an unexpected wave of affection  that makes him almost forget that Kujou is out for (his) blood.

Kujou takes one large sip of his sugar with coffee, then clears his throat.

“Gaku confessed his feelings to you, didn’t he?”

“Tenn!!” Tsunashi splutters, horrified, but it’s already too late.

It’s even worse than he’s feared. Kujou’s words fall on his head like literal blocks of cement; he feels like all of the air in the room has been suddenly sucked away in a vacuum, and he’s left breathless. Kujou’s eyes bore holes into him, trying to read his inner thoughts – he’s not going to have much luck there, because Yamato feels like his mind just went completely blank. It’s like everything came to a stop.

“W-What— Wait, did he tell you?!” His voice squeaks and it’s horrible and he hates it so much—

“Actually, he didn’t.” Kujou shrugs. “But Gaku’s just kind of obvious. You might have noticed already, but he can’t lie to save his own life. He’s been positively _mooning_ over you for months.” He makes a gesture with his hand to stop Yamato from protesting. “Yes, he has. Don’t interrupt me. Also, he’s so painfully honest that he can’t hide anything once he’s come to a decision. I figured he would confess and, well, you just kind of confirmed it.” So he walked right into a trap once again. Damn it.

“What a horrible personality,” Yamato mutters, covering his face with one hand, while searching up for a support with the other. He suddenly feels like he can’t stand if he doesn’t lean on a wall or something.

“Well, sorry about that,” Kujou says, though he doesn’t sound apologetic at all. “But I’ll have you know that I wouldn’t butt in if I didn’t feel this is my business. It just so happens that it is.”

“What,” Yamato can’t even muster the strength to counter him properly. Tsunashi, bless him, seems to finally notice that he’s too emotionally devastated to stand and hurries to stand right beside him, probably ready to catch him if he faints (which would be, actually, an fairly great move to avoid more troubles).

“Tenn, please stop it. It’s not Yamato-kun’s fault.” Tsunashi pleads. This time there’s also something firm in his voice, which seems to tug at Kujou’s strings, but the guy won’t just give up at this point.

“Maybe it’s not,” Kujou concedes, staring down at his paper cup. “Maybe it’s just hundred-per-cent Gaku’s fault for getting himself a fever by thinking too much, even though he is an idiot that usually just _acts_ on his feelings.” He sounds mostly annoyed, probably because Gaku’s skipping work, but Yamato hears a familiar concern laced in his words. Kujou pauses, then suddenly looks up at him and Yamato easily forgets any feeling of empathy to be filled with a new-found terror as he notices just how dark Kujou’s eyes are right now. Kujou didn’t grow much taller in the past two years and half, and he’s like a medium-sized bottle of repressed feelings that could blow up in your face anytime.

“Listen, I know Gaku for being a lot of things, including a disillusioned idiot, but I’ve also _seen_ the two of you together and it’s nothing like his other crushes. So what I’m saying is,” Kujou’s voice lowers just a bit as he gets right in Yamato’s face, almost making him lose his balance, “that you, Nikaidou Yamato, _ought_ _to_ stop running in circles and clear things up with Gaku as soon as possible, and see that your business with him doesn’t get in the way of our work ever again. Got it?”

Yamato blinks down at him. Of course, Kujou Tenn is making this about work, although all Yamato can hear is something along the lines of ‘Hurt him and I will hurt _you_ ’ – really, it’s just kind of heartwarming how close TRIGGER are to each other and he envies them a bit more. Kujou even looks less scary now.

“I… I get it,” he says, slowly, and works up the courage to return Kujou’s gaze until the other finds in his eyes what he’s looking for and leaves him alone, seemingly satisfied.

“Good. I’m going back to the stage,” Kujou states. “See you guys in a bit. Don’t be late.” Then, sparing only one last significant glance, he walks away, and suddenly the storm has passed and Yamato can breathe out again. He’s still alive and truly grateful for it.

Tsunashi places his hand on his shoulder, partly to reassure him and partly – he’s sure- to help him stand upright; his presence is very comforting in itself, and warmth seeps into Yamato through his shirt when Tsunashi squeezes him lightly.

“I’m sorry about all of this. Tenn was quite impolite, but he’s just worried.” Tsunashi offers him an apologetic smile, because he’s truly one of the kindest, most selfless people Yamato has ever met and cares about everyone’s wellbeing. Despite feeling exhausted, Yamato can’t help but smile back.

It seems that Tsunashi’s got some kind of healing power (which must be why TRIGGER hasn’t imploded, all things considered). Yamato’s suddenly hit by a wave of affection towards this guy and thinks he should definitely put in a good word for him with Nagi. How could anyone reject a man like Tsunashi? Though Nagi is not just ‘anyone’ – Nagi is too beautiful to be real. He’s, like, ethereal. And Tsunashi has got the worst crush for him and Yamato’s so touched by his concern that he almost says he fully supports him, too.

Instead, he says: “It’s fine, I get it. Honestly, I think I would do the same for anyone I care about.”

And the moment he speaks these words, he immediately knows that they are true – he would show an equal amount of murderous intent if anyone tried to hurt his juniors. It hits him that Kujou Tenn probably resembles him in the most unexpected ways.

He turns to Tsunashi and says: “I’m sorry you got caught up in it.”

Tsunashi looks surprised for a moment, then he smiles warmly. “It’s fine! They are my best friends, after all,” he says, “but I was also kind of worried about you, Yamato-kun. You look pretty down.”

“Huh? What?” Well, this is unexpected, he thinks, but Tsunashi’s eyes don’t waver one bit.

“Just think thoroughly about it and then talk to Gaku. He won’t be mad at you if you are honest with him, whatever your answer will be,” he says, calm and resolved, and he sounds so convincing that Yamato finds himself nodding to it. What’s worse is that he actually _knows_ too well that it’s true, that Gaku won’t come to dislike him just because of a negative answer; but now he realizes that’s not what he’s been hesitating about. He really has to think this through if he doesn’t want to hurt anyone (including himself).

“Let’s go back.” Tsunashi gives him a friendly pat on the back, as though he’s physically trying to push him forward in every sense. Yamato nods again and follows him back to the stage, but his mind won’t stop imagining Yaotome sick in bed, helpless and vulnerable and defenseless. The thought makes his stomach churn.

 

 

*

 

 

Despite all that Kujou has told him, Yamato doesn’t find the courage to call or message Gaku, let alone going to check up on him. He thought of sending him a simple rabbichat, but never did in the end, and the draft of his message is still saved in his phone when he later learns that Gaku recovered from Tsunashi (he really _is_ worried about him too. Tsunashi is too good to be real).

Ironically, Tsunashi’s message about Gaku arrives together with the news that Tsumugi and Banri are getting married.

Yamato sends them his congratulations – he’s truly happy that they finally got Otoharu’s approval – then tosses his phone aside and leans on his massaging chair, sipping beer directly from the can. However, no matter how much he drinks, it doesn’t stop his mind from constantly wandering off to Gaku, nor does it erase the feelings eating him out from inside.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

Gaku stares at him as though he’s just seen a ghost.

Yamato kind of gets it, since they never had the chance to clear everything up and, between one thing and other, they’ve been constantly missing each other for two months.

“I thought you were avoiding me,” Gaku says, painfully straightforward. “Are you already done?”

“I wasn’t really avoiding you. Not that I could, anyway.”

“So you would if you could.”

Yamato shrugs. “We just constantly missed each other, believe me. TRIGGER got busier, I got busier. Things like that are normal in this field, aren’t they?”

At this, Gaku seems somewhat persuaded, so Yamato takes the chance to offer him a bag containing a reasonable number of beer cans that he bought as a peace offering, and also because it seemed rude to go visiting him without bringing anything, especially after not having seen each other for so long. He kind of misses the familiarity he had with Gaku; now he feels like he’s walking on thin ice just by being here.

Gaku looks at the beers, then at him, and to his relief he moves out of the way, beckoning him to go in. Yamato quietly obliges, muttering a brief greeting although there’s only two of them here, and slips out of his shoes, leaving them at the doorway. The flat is definitely brighter than the road outside – Gaku has the habit to keep all the lights on, who knows why- and it takes a few seconds for his eyes to get used to it, but he’s surprised by how at ease he feels in this place. The soft sound of the TV left on some drama is comforting. Even the faintly lingering scent of Gaku’s cologne feels familiar.

“Sit wherever you want,” Gaku says. “Do you want something to eat? I wasn’t really planning on cooking, so we can order something.”

“Oh? Were you planning on having only salad again, Yaotome? That’s bad for your health, you know. You need proteins, especially since you work yourself so hard.”

“Thanks, _mom_ , but I’m not one of your chicks, you know?” Gaku rolls his eyes, but a grin lingers on his lips. “So, what do we do?”

“Aren’t you gonna order _soba_ from your grandma’s shop, anyway?” Yamato says. This time Gaku breaks into a full, wide smile.

“You get it,” he says, already scrolling through his phone to look for what probably is the most called number in his mobile. He goes to talk in another room, while Yamato sits on the sofa and starts putting out the beers, placing them disorderly on the table. Sitting there reminds him of the kiss, though, and it’s so embarrassing that he ends up choosing the floor. He’d rather not think about that now – he’s already had his head full of Gaku and thoughts about his stupid mouth for days, but having them here, in Gaku’s flat, is a thousand times worse.

“Done, now we wait for it. We can start drinking a little, though…” Gaku’s voice startles Yamato out of his thoughts as he comes back into the living room. He walks up to the table and looks at him from above, perplexed. “Why are you sitting on the floor? There’s a whole sofa right behind you.”

Yamato opens his mouth, then realizes he can’t explain it to Gaku without being awkward about it or mentioning the kiss accident. “Oh, yeah, didn’t notice, I just felt like it—" he mumbles under his breath. Meanwhile, Gaku stares at the beers as to ascertain that Yamato hasn’t started already, though for once Yamato’s incoherent rambling’s not due to the beer.

Gaku sits on the sofa right beside him, his knee lightly brushing Yamato’s shoulder. He could easily press himself against him with so little effort, but he doesn’t, not even when he reaches for a beer by extending his arm right past him and Yamato can’t help but hold his breath a little. Instead, Gaku leans comfortably back against the sofa, pops open his beer and starts sipping it, blissfully unaware of how much his actions can affect Yamato right now – Yamato’s at the same terribly relieved and ridiculous frustrated by this.

“Oh, right. I meant to call your office the other day to congratulate you guys on the good news, but the line was busy, so can you tell me when it’s a good moment to call?” Gaku carries on as though nothing’s going on, and Yamato turns a bit to stare at him with a question mark in his look. Gaku scoffs.

“I’m talking about the marriage. Ryu told me the other day that Tsumugi’s getting married to your other manager, Ogami-san, right? I wanted to congratulate her and you guys, but I couldn’t get through,” he explains. He looks awfully calm for someone who’s talking about his ex-crush getting married to another man, Yamato thinks, and wonders how much of this is fake (this is Yaotome, though. Would he really lie about it? Could he?).

“Uhm, yeah, our line got cut off for a while, sorry,” Yamato says. “Tama and Nagi were messing around, and then Riku tripped into the wires and, well, it got messy real quickly.”

Gaku seems to find this funny, though. “Can’t say it’s something unexpected, coming from you guys,” he laughs. “Is everyone doing alright?”

“Yeah, I mean. Mitsu made them sit in _seiza_ position for half an hour, at the end Nagi cried about his legs being stiff. I felt a little sorry for him, so I convinced Mitsu to let them free.”

“I can see that you guys never change,” Gaku comments, his eyes sparkling with interest and amusement. That’s the thing that he likes most about Gaku – that he really, truly cares about others, and doesn’t hide it.

Yamato pops open a beer, gulps it down in a few sips, then breathes out all at once.

“So… how do you feel?” He says, then cringes inside. Is there any way to ask without making it awkward, he wonders.

“How do I feel about what? You should really teach your _kouhai_ to not play around with electrical outlets and definitely don’t tell Tenn about Nanase because he’ll never stop ranting about—”

“No, no, I meant, the marriage!” Yamato stops him before it gets too long, “How do you feel about… you know!”

“Oh.” Gaku blinks at him, puzzled, then quiets down while thinking about it for a bit. Finally his expression softens, his lips naturally bend into a gentle smile as he speaks. “I’m really happy for her, of course,” he says. He doesn’t look particularly self-conscious about it.

Yamato stares at him, disbelieving.

“But, you… you know, aren’t you even a bit… jealous?”

He doesn’t dare to look at Gaku’s face, focusing on torturing his own hands instead. Damn, his palms are sweaty as hell. This was _definitely_ a bad idea. Gaku turns quiet again, as though he doesn’t know how to answer that, and Yamato’s suddenly convinced that it’s because he can’t deny it. The thought is enough to leave him breathless.

“I’m really happy,” Gaku repeats in a breath. “I wanted to be the one who made her happy, of course. After she refused me, I’ve been afraid for a while that I wouldn’t be able to congratulate her from the heart if she ever found someone else… But it seems that it isn’t the case and, frankly, I’m relieved.” At that, Yamato dares to steal a glance at him. Gaku’s expression does indeed look like a weight has been lifted off of him, but he doesn’t stop there.

“I think it might have been harder back then… But right now it doesn’t hurt so much. You know why, don’t you, Nikaidou?” And, as he says this, Gaku’s looking right at him – Yamato doesn’t need to turn around to know that he is.

“Does that mean…” He stops because he realizes that it’s not what he wants to ask, and that he’s still out of breath, as though he’s run a marathon. He tries to even his breath slowly, willing himself to calm down enough to talk. He needs to clear this right now, right here, or else he’ll lose every shred of courage he still has.

“Huh, are you… Do you still want to be with me? In that… sense?”

“So you really came to talk about that,” Gaku mumbles under his breath. “I was wondering about that since you’ve been acting kind of strange… Well, anyway…” he clears his throat awkwardly. His hands firmly grips Yamato’s shoulders and he drags him at least halfway on the sofa. Their bodies are touching in so many parts that Yamato wants to scream; instead, he squeezes his eyes closed tightly.

“Nikaidou, look at me,” Gaku says, serious and straightforward, but Yamato finds that he can’t oblige to his demand – it’s just too embarrassing, ah, he’s really no good at things like this.

“I can’t,” Yamato shakes his head once, hoping the other will get what he means, “I can’t…”

Gaku’s grip on him turns firmer and stronger; his fingers press into his skin, tangle into his hair, and suddenly his mouth is only a few centimeters apart from the shell of his ear, blowing hotly on it with every breath. Yamato’s throat feels parched, his hands sweat even more and all his blood is flowing to his cheeks. It takes a heartbeat more to understand that Gaku is not planning to answer his question with words – Gaku’s a man of action, just like Kujou said, _he acts on his feelings_.

When Gaku leans down and into him, Yamato knows exactly what’s coming, yet he doesn’t resist to any of it; instead, he easily surrenders to the fervent upside-down kiss Gaku’s giving him and his mouth opens almost at once, pliant and warm as though he’s melting. This openmouthed, bare kiss quells his fears, the rush of panic he’s felt until now. They kiss and kiss until they start tasting the bitter aftertaste of beer on each other’s tongues and Yamato’s neck starts aching a little. Then Gaku ends it, only to start trailing kisses down his neck, to draw his tongue along his collarbone – the sensation is enough to make Yamato gasp softly. He lets Gaku drag him all the way on the sofa and into his arms. 

"So... I take it as a yes," Yamato murmurs, blinking away the dizziness. His glasses are crooked, but it doesn’t seem as important as their mouths still partly touching and their breaths mingling together. Gaku smiles, caressing his cheek with a finger.

"It's a yes," he breathes out. "Actually, I want this even more than before – I want you." He places a kiss to his brow, then rests his chin on his head, buries his nose in his messy hair and just holds him close.

Yamato finds himself leaning into him; his body is slowly, but surely, heating up, and he wants to release this heat building up inside of him. 

 _Then take me_ , he thinks, but can’t bring himself to say it. He’s never been one to take charge on his own, never one to step out from his comfort zone and take the leap. It’ll take a while to bare all his thoughts and feelings (he wishes he could learn a bit from Gaku. When Gaku does it, it somehow makes him seem stronger rather than vulnerable).

"That's, huh. That's good," Yamato says, instead. It’s really awkward. He wishes they could just stop talking about it for now; thankfully, Gaku seems to read the mood for once and, without him having to say anything, he leans in and claims his lips hungrily again.

 

 

*

 

 

 

He starts discovering things, such as:

At times kissing Gaku is like swallowing fireworks; it’s like laying gunpowder on his tongue and let him set his whole mouth on fire, making him crave starlight and flames. It’s gripping his shirt tightly with both hands, trying to take it off him while walking backwards toward the sofa, the bed, or a wall - whatever is fine as long as he can hold on Gaku’s shoulders. As long as they don’t stop. It’s biting back all the words that would otherwise fall from his swollen lips, rolling off his burnt tongue.

At times, though – when he feels too tired to pick a fight, when no words would be comforting enough to untangle the lump in his throat, too tight to swallow- at times like these, Gaku will just peck his lips softly, caringly. He won’t ask for anything more, but won’t let go of him, either. Instead, he will place butterfly kisses all over Yamato’s face and hair, and _these_ are the kisses that really get to him, the ones that make him melt and dissolve faster than a grain of salt in water. 

(And also this:

Gaku will take everything he lets him have, and gives him everything in return. No half-measures – he loves in whole. So once he starts letting Gaku in, even if it’s just little by little, there’s no turning back.)

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 “So,” Yuki casually lets himself fall in the chair right next to him, “I didn’t know there was still something I didn’t know about you, Yamato-kun, but it turns out I was wrong.”

Yamato doesn’t even grant him a greeting: he’s on his feet at once, ready to flee before this conversation can even get started. However, Yuki was expecting it – he _does_ know him, after all – and quickly prevents him from doing so by taking firm hold of his arm and practically dragging him down in his seat again. Yamato glares at the hand holding his elbow, considering the idea of throwing him off and run all the same, but the damn man is stronger than he looks despite the fact that he only feed off vegetables.

“I can’t believe that you’d keep such a big secret from me. My heart’s going to break, you know,” Yuki carries on as if nothing happened (or, at least, nothing out of the ordinary).

“So be it,” Yamato deadpans at him as Yuki dramatically dabs at his eyes with a napkin, acting like he’s actually shedding tears, which he isn’t.

“How cruel, Yamato-kun. How utterly, shockingly cruel.”

Unable to run, Yamato firmly decides to ignore him. He can’t even bear to look at him – Re:vale’s costumes are as colorful and flamboyant as ever, perfectly fitting their eccentric personalities, or at least their image. Not only that; only Yuki could practically wear more feathers than a peacock without looking weird or vulgar. If anything, it’s unfair how handsome he still looks despite everything. Yamato doesn’t intend to let him know, of course – he probably doesn’t even need to hear it from him, since Momo’s practically devoted himself to shower his partner in compliments for their whole life. No matter how many years pass, they only seem to fall deeper in love with each other.

Yuki glances around them, apparently checking that no one is in earshot, before continuing.

“Ah, I can’t believe my little dove has found a partner to make her nest…”

“ _Senpai_ , please tell me you didn’t just say that. You’re making me sick—”

“…especially considering that you two are my dear, precious _film club_ friends! How do you think I felt, Yamato-kun? Excluded. Shook. So utterly betrayed. I gave you my everything, and yet you treated me like an ordinary supporting character. How heartbreaking that is.” Yuki punctuates every last word by hitting his shoulder lightly with the napkin, his grip on his elbow getting slacker as his focus is elsewhere. Yamato takes this as his chance to shake him off and go.

“Yeah, I think I’ll go reflect on that, so if I may—” He rambles on and gets up in a rush, but he doesn’t manage to step away before someone quickly grabs his other arm and drags him back down. Feeling slightly dizzy, Yamato turns around to find Momo smiling toothily at him.

“Now, now, Yamato! Stay a bit more, let’s talk!” He laughs, apparently claiming the chair on his other side – Yamato realizes in horror that he’s now sandwiched between them, with zero chances of getting away. This is going to be a living nightmare, he thinks. 

“I’ve already talked with Gaku, you know!” Momo chirps.

So, this is going to be as bad as he imagined. Yamato nods, barely acknowledging the news.

“I don’t know why you are telling me this.” He tries to smooth his facial features to be as blank as possible. His _senpai_ seem to find this amusing, of course.

“Aw, Yamato’s so dishonest,” Momo pouts, at the same time as Yuki says: “Oh, are you shy? How cute, Yamato-kun,” and Yamato tries his best not to scream.

“I wonder how your fans would feel if they knew what a bad hobby you two have—Really, bullying your _kouhai_ at this age. Someone’d say you would know better.” He shrugs and smiles dryly.

“Bullying? We’re just showing our concern towards our adorable _kouhai_ , though! I only gave Gaku some advice, because he’s really terrible at hiding it,” Momo claims, which finally gets Yamato’s attention. He dares to glance to his right, raising an eyebrow, quizzically.

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” Yuki hums softly as he plays with his braided hair. “His eyes are always searching for you across the room, somehow. He looks like a lost puppy.” He smiles a little. “Haven’t you noticed, Yamato-kun? It’s pretty obvious, and I thought you were pretty sharp.”

Yamato stays quiet. To be honest, he had some kind of feeling about this possibly happening, but he didn’t actually notice; he’s been too busy trying not to stare himself, going out of his way to avoid looking at Gaku more than necessary. It was only to be expected, though. Yamato lets his head fall on his heads and sighs deeply.

“Yeah, thought so,” Momo says, “This is why I told him to be more careful… I totally get it, though! I can barely keep my eyes off Yuki since he’s so handsome all the time!”

“I also look at Momo a lot. You always make the room bright, after all. It’s difficult to tear my eyes off you.”

“Yuki, you can’t say things like that!! My heart’s going to burst!!”

“Can you stop blatantly flirting in front of me?” Yamato grumbles, wishing they’d remember that he’s still stuck there between them. “Well, whatever. Thank you, Momo-san. I will reflect on this, so can I go now?”

Yuki looks at him and, for once, he doesn’t look like he’s teasing him -his expression actually looks mellow around the edges, his eyes glowing softly as he finally removes his hand from his arm. Yamato notices that Momo also let him go, allowing him to get up and leave if he wants to, at last. Afraid that they might change their mind, he gets on his feet and proceeds to put some distance between him and them as fast as he can.

“You know relationships can get difficult in this world,” Yuki says, “Make sure to properly take care of things you treasure, Yamato-kun.”

It actually sounds like good advice. For once, Yamato thinks that he might not be that terrible as a _senpai_ and makes a little bow at him before starting to leave.

“And do use protections.”

His good feelings don’t last much.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

Gaku popping his head out of the kitchen and calling for him is what shakes him out of the drowsiness that suddenly fell upon him. He peeps one eye open and mumbles something just to let the other know that he’s awake and listening.

“Nikaidou, Yuki-san told me to tell you to unblock his chat,” Gaku says, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

So it has come to this.

“Got it,” Yamato nods, unapologetically.

“You are not going to, are you?”

“No-ope.”

There’s a pause. Yamato stretches his arms and legs, then snuggles more on Gaku’s couch, dragging all the pillows around him to be more comfortable. He feels a headache coming and his eyelids slip closed before he even realizes. Meanwhile, it seems that Gaku has resumed his cooking and the sounds coming from the kitchen – cutlery clinking, feet dragging lightly on the parquet - are oddly relaxing.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but he’s still only half-asleep when Gaku calls him again. He can’t muster the strength to answer back, too sleepy to form words and pronounce them properly. He faintly hears Gaku getting closer to him and sighing.

“Hey, Nikaidou, at least have dinner before going to sleep,” he scolds him, but there’s an unmistakable soft note in his voice that Yamato recognizes as fondness. It’s still hard getting used to that kind of emotion being addressed to him. His consciousness slips for a moment and the next thing he knows is  that Gaku’s petting his head, lightly pulling his hair from his face. He feels Gaku’s fingers smooth his scrunched forehead, then a light kiss is pressed just between his eyebrows – it’s such an intimate gesture that Yamato might burst from feeling _too much_. Or rather, how can something be too much and not enough at the same time? Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks that it’s such a pity he can’t watch Gaku’s expression right now.

 

 

 

*

 

 

As much as he loathes to admit it, their _senpai_ are right about this – Gaku’s face is an open book to anyone who knows how to read him. Tenn looks truly exasperated as he elbows him in the side for what’s like the fourth time already, reminding him not to stare too much.

Yamato feels the impellent need to hide – he fears that his expression might betray the same affection, as lately he often finds himself unable to not reciprocate anything Gaku throws at him.

That’s it. Gaku’s turning him into an idiot, too.

He also finds avoiding to stare at Gaku quite hard – the scorching sun makes his skin redden and beads of sweat roll out his biceps and collarbone and abs as he lifts his shirt to dry his face on it. Then Gaku decides to tie his hair up, leaving his scarlet-looking nape exposed, and Yamato almost swears under his breath as he feels his throat parched with thirst. And summer’s only just beginning.

 

*

 

 

 

As he thought, the fact that he’s been invited to several Re:vale’s shows didn’t go unnoticed -or maybe, it was all a powerful marketing move. When he’s casted for a main role in a drama featuring Yuki as the other main actor and Re:vale’s new single as the theme song, then, Yamato doesn’t feel even an ounce of surprise.

The truth is, he kind of admires the screenwriter behind this show; he definitely saw something of hers before, and recognizes her talent in adapting popular books into drama TVs. That is the main reason he accepts the role, but he knows he’s going to have to arm himself with a good deal of nerve to face those two every day until the end of the footage. For a start, Yuki apparently decided to be utterly insufferable to make up for every time he wants to send him a stupid message but cannot since he’s still blocked (which only reinforces Yamato’s idea of leaving it at that). Moreover, after reading the whole script, he also kind of wants to punch Yuki in the face, because of the character he plays.

This show is a tragedy, to say the least. It’s a gloomy, dark story in which two detectives have to learn how to work together after having been put together by chance. Yamato’s character is really unlucky – his name, Youichi, sounds like a joke as he lost both of his parents, has lots of eyebags and is downright edgy. As they investigate the case of a killed woman, though, Youichi truly starts to respect and trust his _senpai,_ Matsukawa, a beautiful, almost aethereal man with a sharp tongue and cold demeanor. Despite this, Youichi sees a paternal figure in him. Matsukawa becomes his whole world.

But even that bond is then destroyed as Youichi comes to the bitter realization that Matsukawa’s actually the murderer they were looking for all along, and the victim is actually the woman he loved. It was an unconventional, forbidden love. No one knew about their secret, although the man itself knew the secrets of every one. In the last scenes, Youichi finds out that Matsukawa was forced to kill his own lover as she was given to another man by her high-class family, and she herself had asked him to do it. She never appears on screen, she doesn’t have a name nor a face, yet she’s deeply treasured by Matsukawa.

Yamato feels like he should hate Matsukawa more for what he’s done, but instead he feels pity towards him. He wonders if the audience is supposed to feel the same pity as he does; in that case, how should he act, as a young man who’s just lost a father twice?

Because Youichi doesn’t just lose Matsukawa when he finds out the truth. He loses him again, and for good, as his hero crumples under his own guilt and chooses to take his own life –Matsukawa leaps off the roof without a goodbye, leaving his _kouhai_ to carry this weight for the rest of his life. He leaves him alone in that cold, cruel, world, and this is what Yamato can’t forgive the most.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

He’s going to melt. He’s going to die while listening to Iori and Riku bicker over something he didn’t even catch – he feels hot even though his shirt’s sleeveless and he’s wearing Bermuda and sandals and he can’t think of how to make everything more bearable. Yamato figures that if he feels like this, Nagi’s probably already melted into a puddle. He turns and peeks, curious, under Nagi’s straw hat, lifting the rough hem with two fingers. Nagi, with his cheeks and nose adorably flushed, looks at him questioningly, bleary, but Yamato just shakes his head and leaves it at that. Apparently, Mitsuki reads this as a sign that Iori and Riku must be stopped, and swiftly jumps in their conversation.

“Aaand that’s enough!!” He exclaims, smacking them both lightly on the head. “You’re both wrong here! Iori, you’re being overprotective. Riku, being reckless is no good!! I thought we already covered that. Manager’s gonna get a hole in her stomach by looking after you!” At this, both Iori and Riku lower their head and mumble their apologies to each other, then to the rest of them. Mitsuki sighs and smiles.

“As long as you two get it! There’s nothing wrong with arguing a bit, but don’t go overboard, or else Yamato-san and Nagi’re gonna melt while waiting for you to end!”

Nagi actually claps at that, slightly revived. Yamato shrugs and gives a hint of a grin.

“Oh, Mitsu, my hero, king of _tsukkomi_. Can I offer you a drink?”

Mitsuki looks at him, deadass serious. “So, you gonna offer to everyone, right?” he says, turning this against him, and damn, cut him some slack. Though Yamato _did_ , in fact, intend to pay for everyone – maybe because they still consider him their _leader_ and he’s grown fond of the title, or simply because it’s them  that he’s fond of.

In that moment, as on cue, Sougo and Tamaki come back to the table and sit in the empty chairs they left for them – Tamaki between Iori and Riku, and Sougo next to Mitsu and him.

“Hey,” Tamaki greets them, grinning lazily.

“Good work, Tamaki, Sougo-san!” Riku says, cheerfully, raising both of his hands for a high-five. Iori simply nods at them as he’s regaining his cool after losing it in front of his brother. Nagi leans across the table and Tamaki and him exchange some sort of weird ritual as a greeting, which includes several high-fives, a bro-fist and a whistling noise at the end. _Youngsters_.

Meanwhile, Sougo hangs his bag to the chair and, as turns towards then, he says, “Sorry, we’re late! The photoshoot was extended a bit-”

Even though he’s smiling apologetically, Yamato thinks that Sou carries himself with much more confidence than before; at the same time, Tamaki looks less wild, more mature, though he isn’t tamed. It’s like the two members of MEZZO” have actually started to rub off on each other, bringing change to each other in such a positive way that Yamato would have never thought possible years ago.

But they’re all so grown up now.

Maybe he should tell them… No, he really has to (he starts sweating, but not because of the sun).

As he’s pondering on that, the waitress comes with their orders and Tamaki gives a loud cheer when she places a large, marvelous parfait in front of him, and as he immediately digs in he realizes there’s pudding on the bottom of the glass.

“Ta-da~! We ordered the Deluxe Pudding Parfait for you!” Riku says, happily. “It was Iori’s idea, though!”

Tamaki’s smile is more blinding than the sun itself as he hugs both of them.

“Really?! You did it for me?! Rikkun, Iorin, I love you sooo much!”

“Yotsuba-san, you’re choking me,” Iori manages to say, but he looks quite proud of himself for making Tamaki smile like that. Ichi is really good at taking care of people, Yamato thinks. It’s not the first time he realizes this – that Iori’s loyalty is unshakeable once you earn it – but somehow it seems really precious right now, as he’s preparing to tell them about Yaotome and him.

(Yamato’s one hundred per cent sure that they’ll easily come to terms with it; yet, opening up your heart never stops being unnerving, especially in front of the people you care about most.)

“We got pepper chocolates for Sougo-san!” Riku adds.

“Thank you, guys! I’m so happy,” Sougo smiles, then turns and starts rummaging into his bag. For a single, terrifying moment everyone falls quiet, half-expecting Sougo to pull out a bottle of tabasco and sprinkle it on the sweet and spicy chocolates. It turns out that he was only searching for his phone, though, and everyone sighs in unspoken relief as he happily snaps a photo of the dish.

Yamato watches as everyone starts to dig in, while his own green lemonade stays on the table, untouched. On his left, Mitsuki and Nagi look at each other, then at him, somehow picking up his sudden nervousness. Mitsuki opens his mouth, he looks like he’s about to ask. Yamato doesn’t want them to ask—

“I’m going out with Yaotome,” he says, before he can think better of it.

As soon as the words are out he finds himself stared by six pairs of eyes all at once. No one speaks for a solid minute, leaving their food and drinks untouched, which makes him even more nervous, but he resists the urge to slip under the table. Instead, he gulps and attempts to give a weak laugh.

“You know… You could at least give me a reaction…”

Sougo’s the first to snap out of it, his eyes widening in panic, as though he’s realized he’s made a horrible mistake. “Oh, no, was I supposed to be surprised? I’m so sorry, Yamato-san, I was just busy thinking about what to answer. Please say it again, so this time I can do better,” he says, so innocently dutiful that Yamato doesn’t know if he should be moved or horrified.

“No… Uhm… Sou, it’s alright…”

Sougo still looks unconvinced. “Yamato-san, I must insist! I want to do it properly, so please start over…”

Before Yamato can actually answer, Riku shakes himself out of his stupor and happily chimes in the conversation. “Ah, me too, me too! Yamato-san, please give me the chance! I’ll be perfectly surprised!!” He claims, raising his hand up in the air like a scholar.

“No… I won’t say it again…”

“Ah, then me too,” Tamaki says, ignoring his weak response. “Yama-san, go on. I won’t lose to Rikkun and Souchan, I’m gonna make the best surprised reaction.”

Iori sighs. “Just to what extent do you hate to lose? What is there to compete about?”

Yamato holds his head in his hands and presses his forehead to the cold surface of the table. Their antics have somehow calmed him and he doesn’t feel nervous anymore, but he’s still on edge – after all, Nagi and Mitsuki are still being awfully quiet. This is so bad for his heart.

He quietly waits for it while listening to the usual bickering around him until a hand’s placed on his shoulder. Warmth seeps through his shirt and makes him look up, meeting Nagi’s gleaming blue eyes.

“Yamato,” he says, with all the love he’s capable of, “We are all very happy for you. We all knew.”

“Yeah, we actually kinda figured it out on our own,” Mitsuki smirks, teasing him, but then his smile softens turns more sincere. “But we’re happy that you told us. We were waiting for you to come out with it, you know.” His eyes are bright, almost shiny (and Yamato hopes to God that Mitsuki’s not going to cry because he doesn’t think he could hold it in either).

“Yaotome-shi seems to really like you. I hope he is treasuring you properly,” Nagi says, with an edge that actually means ‘If he hurts you I am going to kill him. Painfully’, which Yamato finds kind of cute and horrifying at the same time. It reminds him of Kujou Tenn.

“He is not bad.” He suddenly feels the urge to defend Gaku. “We’re doing fine.”

“Nikaidou-san became unexpectedly quite honest,” Iori comments calmly as he sips his overly sweetened coffee, while Tamaki grins and adds, “Yup. Yama-san has grown so much.”

“Congratulation on your splendid relationship, Yamato-san.” Sougo offers him a kind, warm smile. 

“Congrats, _ossan_. I’ll bake your wedding cake anytime,” Mitsuki chirps in.

“Wha— Wait, how did it get to this, it’s not even that serious—”

“ _OH_ , Mitsuki, what a beautiful idea. Shall I book a cruise ship especially for Yamato’s wedding?”

“You guys— enough with the wedding talk—Stop ignoring me!” He whines, exasperated, only to get more laughers in response. They slowly quiet down one by one and, suddenly, Yamato doesn’t know what to say anymore. He’s not sure he’s ready to delve more into this conversation, but the silence’s even more uncomfortable.

Luckily for him, they’re saved by Riku, who unexpectedly decides to speak up.

“We’re all genuinely happy, Yamato-san.” His voice trembles a bit, but stays strong and warm. “No matter how far we are, we all wish for each other’s happiness. This is what I believe… We’re family.”

Yamato slowly raises his head and looks at him – for the first time in months, he really _looks_ at Riku and he _gets_ it. He’s never stopped to really think about it, choosing to avoid any painful feeling instead, but Riku must have reflected about it a lot, in his own way. He must have dragged his guilt since forever, fought against his insecurities and the voices telling him that it was his fault, run in circles, and then come up with his answer. He’s always been the bravest of them all, Yamato thinks.

He then looks at the rest of them, studying their faces one by one, finding relief in realizing that they share the same feelings – happiness, pride, and most of all affection. Riku’s words have always had the power to shatter any wall. No one lowers his head or tries to hide, although Nagi and Mitsuki look like they’re about to cry, and even Iori seems to be resisting the urge to dab his eyes with a napkin. Yamato’s also starting to feel very emotional right now; he can’t believe he got so lucky in his life to have found them and somehow kept them all by his side.

Riku is the first one to break into tears, though, and Yamato’s heart swells with affection at the sight. He wants to apologize to Riku for any unkind thought he might have had before, but holds back; he will keep this for another time, when they’re alone and can talk heart to heart.

“Geez, Riku, don’t cry at your own words! Smile, smile!” Mitsuki says, although he’s been on the verge of tears too until two seconds ago. Iori gently gives Riku his napkin.

Riku nods and wipes his eyes.

“Sorry, we haven’t seen each other for a while, so I guess I got a bit emotional!” He laughs shyly, then turns to Yamato with a bright, cheerful smile.

“Ah, I also can’t wait to see your new drama! It’s exciting to see you act with Yuki-san, you two have such good chemistry! I’m sure Yuki-san will be so good, but Yamato-san won’t lose to him, right?!” He claims, rocking on his chair cheerfully.

“Riku. Yuki-san and I have no chemistry whatsoev—”

Iori clears his throat, interrupting him without any remorse.

“We’ve decided to watch it together with every one of us,” he says, then gives him a very meaningful look. “And by that I mean _everyone_. You get it, right, _leader_?”

He can’t believe he’s agreeing to this, but he somehow finds himself nodding. It’s the first time he’ll be actually watching something of his with them, and he knows he’ll be embarrassing as hell and he’ll regret it later, but still nods to it anyway. Yamato buries his face in his hands to hide his smile and blushing cheeks, blaming the hot sun for this change of pace.  

“Huh, Yamato-san?” Mitsuki suddenly says, shaking him physically off his thoughts. “Momo-san has just sent me a rabbit chat. Apparently Yuki-san wants you to unblock him?”

 

 

*

 

 

Everyone leaves around six in the afternoon. As Yamato starts thinking about what he should have for dinner, his phone promptly vibrates with a message from Gaku, urgently asking him to come over, and just like that all of his plans for the night fly right out of the window. He goes back to his flat only to gather whatever he needs for staying over the night, then goes right to Gaku’s.

Gaku opens the door wearing nothing but shorts and a loose, sleeveless shirt, with his reddened, sunburnt skin in plain sight. Photoshoots in summer are plain hell for someone as fair-skinned as him, yet he won’t complain as long as it’s work – what an idiot, he looks like a boiled crayfish. His hair are tied in a tiny ponytail on the nape and he’s weirdly not covered in sweat, and Yamato finds out why as he steps through the door and is invested by a gust of cold air. The air conditioning mercilessly turned the house into a freezer or something. Damn rich kids.

“Do you want me to hibernate?” He asks, closing the door behind him. Gaku mutters something under his breathe, but turns down the conditioner as he walks back to the living room. Yamato follows him through the flat, stops by the kitchen to drop off the ingredients for the dinner, bought on the way here, then joins him. As soon as his eyes set on the TV, though, he feels the urge to bolt away.

“Oh, you came just at the right time. Here.” Gaku glances at him, inexplicably relieved, and immediately pats the spot beside him on the sofa.

 “Right time for what? Is this some kind of punishment? Are you mad at me?” Yamato laughs humorlessly, still standing. Gaku leans forward, catches his wrist and drags him right where he wants him.

“Don’t be difficult. I just want some company,” Gaku says, matter-of-factly. “I’ve been bingwatching your drama all day. Well, not all day, but I’ve started as soon as I got home from work.”

Yamato doesn’t know what to do with all this information. It’s kind of hard to protest, knowing that Gaku could have chosen anyone for ‘some company’, but specifically called him over – it’s doing funny things to his chest. Yamato also can’t help but notice the way his thumb’s drawing circles on the inner part of his wrist; if it’s a strategy to distract him from the fact that Gaku has not answered his questions yet, well, it’s definitely working. The more he does, though, the more Yamato feels like this is something Gaku himself needs. It’s almost like he’s seeking physical comfort.

Yamato finds himself frowning. Did something happen at work? He doesn’t think that Gaku would hide it, or even be able to. Actually, he looks pretty normal, apart from the fact that his skin is unnaturally red and as cold as ice. He wonders if he should bring it up, but Gaku’s eyes are once again glued to the TV, his teeth biting down on the inside of his cheek as he’s deeply focused on the thing.

All of sudden, Yamato notices a twitch in Gaku’s expression as he literally holds his breath. His mouth then starts to form a pout, his forehead scrunches up. Yamato doesn’t really get it, but he squeezes Gaku’s hand in his by instinct. The gesture seems to be well received, as well as remind Gaku of breathing properly.

However, Gaku’s not looking at him, and it kind of bothers him for various reasons. Telling him to look his way would be petty, though (or at least he thinks it would), so he keeps quiet. Instead, he dares to sneak a glance to the TV, just to see if there’s anything wrong with it. Naturally, Yamato regrets it at once: he grimaces in embarrassment and cringe at seeing his own face covered in tears and dirt as the series reaches its climax, when Youichi discovers the truth and Matsukawa takes his own life right after. Really, this show is a freaking tragedy.

“Damn,” Gaku whispers, and Yamato marvels at how indignant he actually sounds, “I kind of want to punch Yuki-san now.”

“I totally, hundred-per-cent get it,” Yamato hums, then shakes his head. “He’s too much of a good actor. And his character is an asshole. This show was so fucked up. I’m glad I didn’t get the villain part in this one, who kills the woman he loves just for that? They could’ve eloped, damn.”

“Yeah, I mean. Yeah. But I wasn’t talking about that,” Gaku mumbles under his breath. He looks somewhat sad now, his lips curled in a pout. “Yeah, he’s an asshole, and I’m angry at him for doing that to the woman he loved, that’s fucking devastating. But what I really want to punch him for is putting that expression on your face.”

Yamato stares at him, wondering if he misheard something.

“He, huh. He didn’t really…”

“Ugh, I know. I know, but,” Gaku makes a frustrated noise, then tears off his eyes from the TV and stares at him helplessly, “It’s been so hard to watch all of this. I already knew the plot, but I couldn’t guess it would be _this_ hard. Everything is so hurtful, and you— There’s not even a single scene where you look truly _happy_. It feels so wrong, to always see you wearing that lonely, longing expression…” He gives a light squeeze to his hand. “I don’t know how I pulled through it until now, but as I thought, it feels so much better having you here.”

Yamato feels his own face flush at every word Gaku speaks and the worst thing is that he finds his embarrassment perfectly mirrored in Gaku, who’s turning almost purple. As the ending credits start to roll out, Yamato looks at Gaku, helpless, lost, and doesn’t know who needs to be hugged the most right now.

His voice trembles as he struggles to get few words out. “Yaotome. You’re so embarrassing.”

“…I’m sorry?”

“Ugh. Terrible. Come here.”

Gaku moves at once, as though he was only waiting for a sign; he leans towards him and encases his body with his arms. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I like you way more than I thought.”

Yamato laughs weakly, seeking his lips. “Idiot,” he mumbles, “don’t apologize for something like that.” Such an embarrassing guy.

The kiss is slow, wet, and as light as a butterfly. It sets fireworks in his chest.

 

*****

 

He’s spent, exhausted, but somehow still hungry for more –it’s strange how the more Gaku gives, the more he craves. By now, it’s come to a vicious circle that’s difficult to break. He never knew he could possibly be this greedy.

Yamato doesn’t try to sit, but finds it more relaxing to remain lying on his back, legs still twitching slightly, covered in sweat and bit marks that Gaku apparently loves to give him; he feels sticky with streaks of his own cum across the stomach, which is kind of gross, but it’s not like he has the will to get up and clean himself up. He watches carefully as Gaku returns to bed after tossing the used, dirty condom away, then musters all his strength to grab him by his arms, making him lose balance and fall rather ungracefully against the mattress, right beside him.

When Gaku seems about to protest, Yamato laughs and presses lips against lips, an open-mouthed kiss that elicits a small, wet noise out of Gaku, which is very satisfying and spurs him on. Anything Gaku has been thinking dies instantly when he finds himself cut off by Yamato’s lips on his own, Yamato’s tongue intruding his mouth as soon as he opens it to form the syllables of Yamato’s name. They stop with heavy breath, swollen lips, and Yamato’s hands slipping on Gaku’s hips, pulling his body onto his own, their waists colliding together. Gaku stares down at him, probably thinking that someone with askew glasses and red marks mapping a constellation on his chest definitely shouldn’t look this smug and satisfied, but Yamato doesn’t care one bit at the moment.

“Nikaidou,” Gaku’s voice comes low and gruff, seemingly still out of breathe from the kiss, or perhaps because of the returning friction between their bodies. Yamato wonders if it’s meant to sound like a warning, although there’s something needy in Gaku’s voice that makes it kind of unconvincing.  Yamato notes that he’s returned to surname basis, although he _would_ call him by his name when they’re doing such things. As a response, Yamato laces his mouth onto his neck, kissing and biting his skin, careful not to leave any visible marks even though he kind of wants to – there’s no way Gaku would be able to hide them now that is summer.

Gaku’s breath hitches as Yamato mouths at his Adam’s apple, and he feels him gulp under his lips and tongue.

“Nikaidou,” Gaku tries again, then stops, restarts, “ _Yamato_ , we are… huh, we are out of condoms, you know... That was… the last one… so…” He gasps softly as Yamato slips a hand between their legs and wraps his fingers around his half-hard erection, giving it a tentative squeeze.

Yamato grazes his teeth lightly against his unshaved chin, then murmurs, almost purrs: “Don’t need one, just hurry up.”

And then he just _has_ to look at Gaku’s expression. Despite not seeing him clearly due to the angle and the lights off, he can feel Gaku’s face growing hot. He might be blushing really hard; it must be such an endearing sight that Yamato ponders the idea of doing it with the lights on.

Finally, Gaku stops mulling over it. He clears up his throat and opens his mouth to reply, but the only sound leaving his lips is a soft: “ _Oh_ ,” just before Yamato drags him into another messy, open-mouthed kiss that feels like a searing furnace.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

Yamato wakes up in a bed that is not his own and, to his surprise, he realizes he’s used to it.

He slowly blinks away the sleep, stretches his limbs like a cat, then he rolls on his stomach to reach for his glasses. In doing so, he notices a note on the night table, written on a scrap of paper with a round calligraphy that looks familiar – Gaku, of course, never stops leaving him notes whenever he has to go out when he’s still asleep. Yamato quickly reads through it, then leaves it where he found it and rolls on his back again, eyes staring blankly on the ceiling. A quick glance to the clock hanging on the wall tells him that it’s past ten, but Gaku won’t be back until lunch, which means he has plenty of time to shower, dress and think about what they’ll eat then—

Yamato doesn’t even finish the thought. He almost sounded like a wife right then, and that is… puzzling, if anything else. His mind’s screaming in alarm – he’s so _gone_.

At this point, he’s clearly falling harder and faster than he ever intended to, but as much as this terrifies him, he can’t bring himself to regret it one bit. Because actually he’s not falling at all. Instead, sometime between kissing Gaku and building a sort-of-like-a-relationship with him, he burrowed his own place into Gaku’s flat and made it his second home. And it really is, kind of. He already started to bring in some of his things -just because it was easier to have everything within reach, and because Gaku complains about having to make detours to take what he needs every single time he sleeps over and it’s annoying as hell. In less than one year, Gaku’s flat became filled with them.

As soon as he’s persuaded himself to get up, he reaches for a shirt – his or Gaku’s, it doesn’t matter- and his boxers, just to get himself dressed at the bare minimum, then puts his feet down. He’s overcome with a sudden urge – he wants to take his time exploring the flat and searching for all the things that unequivocally belong to him, mapping with his own eyes the traces he’s left around, taking in the brunt of his existence on Gaku’s. He opens drawers in the bedroom and finds old sweaters, baggy cardigans, wrinkled t-shirts. Then he goes to the living room, barefoot, and sees his own shoes, sloppily tossed near the door. Passing by the kitchen, he can’t help but notice his discolored green cup. He steps into the bathroom and looks at his worn toothbrush and the mild-flavored toothpaste he’s had to buy because the one Gaku uses is too strong for his delicate tongue (and Gaku will never live it down). Gaku also memorized which shampoo he normally uses, and now there’s always at least one bottle standing on the edge of the bathtub, lined up with other products.

He feels a sense of peace and safety that can’t be found anywhere else but here since he stopped living in dorms. He starts thinking about whether he should bring in Musashi, too.

 

 

 

*

*

*

 

 

 

 

**III. _the building of a nest_**

_[glancing at his garden,_

_now,_

_he sees it, finally,_

_what he’s always been looking for_

_\- this nest which is called_

_home.]_

 

 

 

“Yamato,” Gaku’s voice comes out low and careful, “What is _that_?”

Yamato barely glances up from the magazine he’s reading – there’s a nice interview with Nagi that has caught his interest since he’s walked past the _konbini_ this morning and recognized that familiar, beautiful face plastered on the cover page. It’s kind of unfair how much prettier Nagi becomes year after year; apparently he’s decided to let his hair grow past his shoulders and, well, anything suits him. Watching his junior’s hair grow makes him feel softer inside and think he wants to braid them for him. Or maybe Tsunashi should do it for him, instead. Then Yamato realizes that Gaku’s still standing here waiting for an answer, so he pushes his thoughts about Nagi aside for a moment to see what’s up with him.

Gaku’s not looking at him. He’s staring at the pavement, following with his fierce gaze something that’s been moving around beneath his feet. Yamato tries not to laugh at Gaku’s dumbfounded expression.

“Oh, it’s just Musashi,” he says lightly, then shrugs and pretends to turn back to his reading.

“Musashi,” Gaku repeats, mystified, as though he’s just had the most astounding, groundbreaking revelation about life. It seems that Yamato’s just given him the answer to all the secrets of the universe. He stay quiet for a while, following with his eyes the accurate patterns Musashi’s tracing on the parquet. Yamato lifts up his magazine just a little to cover his smile as he watches how Gaku even goes out of his way to step aside and let Musashi safely carry on his duty.

“Is this, like, your definition of _pet_?” That, Yamato thinks, is an excellent question. He vaguely remembers mentioning to Gaku that he was going to bring in his pet, a while ago, while Gaku was deep in his workload.

“I thought you weren’t listening,” he says, knowing fully well that he’s not answering the question. He loves to rile him up. Gaku’s mouth bends into a slight pout as he mutters that he always listens, then he lowers himself and sits on his heels – he moves slowly, carefully, as one would with a wild animal that could be easily scared off.

“Should I… pet it?” He asks. Yamato tries his best not to laugh, because Gaku’s being utterly adorable and not Most-Desired-like at all and somehow this still makes his heart want to leap out of his bony cage.

“If you want. It won’t bite you. Musashi’s well educated.”

Gaku nods, reassured, and gives Musashi a thoughtful pat on his metallic head. Yamato’s chest swell with affection for both of them (god, he’s so _done_ ).

“Do you like it?” He says, and this time he doesn’t stop himself from smiling nor does he hide it from Gaku.

“Hm. Seems like a good boy. Though I’m more of a dog person.”

“Bet you are.” Gaku definitely looks like a dog person – no, he looks like someone who could carry the biggest, fluffiest dog in his arms and be perfectly happy with his hands full of fur. Yamato thinks back to Mitsuki and Riku, then glances at Gaku himself, and says: “I think I’m a dog person, too.”

Gaku looks at him – like really _looks_ at him – for a solid minute, with his brows furrowed. If it wasn’t Gaku, Yamato would almost think that Gaku’s just read his inner thoughts (but he isn’t that sharp, is he?). Then Gaku’s features relax and his lips form a smile that is far too soft to be teasing.

“At least, I thought I was a dog person,” he says, still staring at him. “Nowadays, though, I’ve started liking cats a lot more, I think.” He’s definitely teasing him now (which is just unfair because _when did you become so good at reading me, why are you like this, I hate you, you suck_ ), so Yamato promptly retreats behind his magazine and doesn’t speak another word.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

“Of course he’s a dog person,” Tenn comments one day, overhearing as Yamato mentions that conversation while talking with Tsunashi. “Cats don’t like him at all. In fact, you must be the only one who actually likes him,” Tenn adds, smug, and Tsunashi politely tries not to laugh in his face as Yamato promptly chokes on his coffee.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

They receive gifts as soon as their friends learn about their improvised cohabitation – mostly things for the house, such as new sets of crystal blue and red glasses, one beautiful bath mat with King Pudding’s large face printed on it, a book entitled ‘100+ ways to decorate your flat’, cute yellow bedside lights, Mitsuki’s celebratory strawberry shortcake, pinkish porcelain dishes, a nice painting of the sea in Okinawa. There’s still one last box to open and it comes with no name, but a note stuck to it. Yamato feels something’s off about it as he takes it and turns it over while Gaku removes the elaborate tape and ribbons closing the package. The note only says: ‘ _To my dear Gakyun & Yappi_’, and Yamato’s sixth sense sending him ringing alarm bells even before Gaku spreads out a set of bedclothes on the bed.

They stare at Yuki’s handsome face printed on the blanket for a moment.

“Nope.”

“No way.”

They agree at once that they don’t need another set of bedclothes.

There are also two nice fuchsia pillow, surely Momo’s doing; although it’s not a color they fancy, they choose to keep them after all. They pack Yuki’s sheets back up into the box, then opens Mitsuki’s cake and eat it on the kitchen counter with two spoons and no dishes. Gaku steals all the juicy strawberries on the top.

Later, Yamato unblocks Yuki’s chat for the first time in months and starts to type in.

“ _Senpai_. Why are you like this?” he writes, then promptly blocks him again before an answer comes.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

The moment they step into the house, Yamato’s incredibly grateful for the warmth. December is a horrible month, one which he’d really like to skip over; he feels his face burn with the freezing cold, his cheeks and nose undoubtedly red, his glasses are blurry with his own puffy breath, and despite the gloves he thinks his fingers have frozen. He quickly removes his boots, then his jacket and scarf as he goes further in, Gaku at his heels.

As soon as they step into the living room, Yamato slips under the _kotatsu_ they’ve only recently bought and set inside. They finally decided to split up the price after debating it for weeks as Gaku, being the overly romantic type of boyfriend he is, insisted on paying the whole sum, except Yamato’s never been good at letting other spoil him. He fought him about it and Gaku compromised by splitting it up. It’s not a big _kotatsu_ , but it’s just right for them and he loves it. Its warmth seeps in his tired limbs, and he sighs out of relief as he feels himself slowly melting like an ice sculpture. Yamato cleans his glasses with his sweater, then slowly peels the gloves from his hands – just as he thought, his hands look really red, frostbitten. He should start carrying hot water packs in his pockets, like Riku does (surely Iori, Tsumugi or Tenn’s idea).

“Yamato, hold this for me.” Yamato slowly looks up from his hands, still frowning, and notices Gaku’s joined him under the _kotatsu_ , sitting right in front of him. He stares at the hand offered to him, perplexed.

“What?” He says, blinking at Gaku, then at his hand. The realization dawns on him and he feels his cheeks grow warm at once. "Your hand? Really?” He groans, quickly lowering his eyes. 

Gaku reaches to take hold of his left hand anyway.

“Yeah, really,” he hums, softly. “Give me the other, too.” It shouldn't be this endearing.

Yamato finally gives in and nearly dies out of embarrassment when Gaku brings his hands to his mouth to gently blow on them, rubbing them lightly in his hold to warm him up.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

Yamato starts feeling lethargic as soon as the weather turns dreary and rainy and chilly. There’re really few things he likes about the cold seasons, such as going out with Tama for a boiling hot _ramen_ bowl, or preparing _ochakuze_ with whatever he’s got left in the kitchen, or waiting for Gaku to bring warm _soba_ at home from his gramps’ shop.

“Yamato,” Gaku says carefully, “is that sweater mine?”

Yamato looks down at the black turtleneck sweater he’s wearing. It’s a very recent discovery, but he finds that Gaku’s sweaters are oddly comforting. Fiddling with his fingers in the long hems of the sleeves, he slowly turns back to Gaku.

“Maybe,” he hums.

Gaku mutters something fast under his breath, then promptly drags him back to bed again.

They’ll have to warm up their _soba_ later.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

Gaku trails kisses on his skin in a way that makes him want to never leave the bed.

It’s probably already too late to say he doesn’t want to be spoiled.

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

Gaku messages him right after Yamato steps out of the office. For some reason, his manager gave him loads of free time this evening, so he planned to take it easy as soon as he knocked off work – at least, that was what he thought before Gaku requested for him to come back home _urgently_. He frowns at the text, for the right reasons; last time Gaku used that word, ‘urgently’, he just wanted company to watch a TV drama. Their TV drama. Which Yamato didn’t want to watch. So, he’s a little suspicious and feels that he has the right to be.

Nonetheless, he finds himself skipping his planned visit to the _konbini_ opposite to his office and rushing to take the first train possible. Maybe Gaku doesn’t feel well. That’s what you get for eating _soba_ thrice a week. And if he just needed more _soba_ , he would have told him right away. Yamato doesn’t like this aura of mystery – he’s too used to Gaku’s natural, crystalline honesty. It’s not like he’s nervous, but he fidgets with his keys, then with the door handle.

The house’s silent, too silent, and also too dark. There are further rooms, of course, so he might just not see the lights from the outside, but there’s something unnatural about the whole ordeal and it unnerves him. It must be the weird lack of signs that Gaku’s home. No matter how many times Yamato tells him not to, Gaku’s the type to always leave lights turned on all around the house, especially in common spaces like the doorway (damn rich kid). There’s only one thing that says that he’s home, and it’s his shoes neatly arranged in the doorway, right in front of Yamato’s eyes.

“Gaku? I’m home,” Yamato raises his voice in case Gaku’s in the bathroom or another inner room, like the bedroom; however, no answer comes. Maybe he’s _really_ feeling unwell. Yamato’s immediately hit by a wave of concern at the thought that Gaku might be feeling so horrible that he can’t even answer him, so he quickly takes off his shoes (or rather kicks them away, leaving them in disarray by the door) and rushes inside. “Gaku? Are you okay? Where are you?” he calls again as he fumbles around for the light switch.

Light floods the living room all at once, then he hears an abrupt noise, followed by bangs and voices booming all around him, each one of them painfully out of sync.

“Congratulation, Nikaidou-san.”

“Congrats, Yama-san!!”

“Yamato-san!!! Congratulations!!”

And so on, while Yamato’s literally submerged by confetti, fake flower petals, colorful paper streamers. Pieces of tissue paper, shaped like stars and hearts, slowly fall from the ceiling towards which they’ve been blasted. Yamato watches them dance in front of him, blinking slowly as his eyes readjust to the light and his head starts catching up to what’s happening. He looks all around and recognizes all the joyful faces surrounding him – Idolish, Trigger and even ZOOL. Only Re:vale seem to be missing. Sougo leans in towards Tamaki and asks softly, “How was my reaction? Did I get the timing right?”, which probably means he actually _practiced_ this time around. _Oh, for God_ ’s—

Yamato looks for Gaku and stares at him while mouthing, “What the hell,” which no one misses.

Minami giggles and says, “You seem to be confused, Yamato-san. This is a celebratory party for the prize you won recently”, which is, actually, kind of obvious if Yamato stops to think about it. He was naïve to think that his _kouhai_ would be satisfied with sending him congratulatory messages – Nagi even sent a basket full of exotic fruit and (what looked like) an extremely luxurious wine, but apparently not even that was enough. It should have been obvious, yet he somehow missed all that. Which is why, right now, Yamato can only stare in disbelief, until Riku gets right in his face to peek at his expression.

“Yamato-san, are you angry? Aren’t you happy?” Riku asks, and his eyes are brimming with so much innocence that Yamato finds it impossible to say anything other than, “No, no, I’m not angry.”

Then he inhales deeply, looks at all of them and adds, “I’m just surprised. Damn, you planned that well… I didn’t see it coming at all! Yaotome, so you were into it, too, huh.”

Gaku grins. “Yeah, sorry for worrying you. Izumi junior contacted me just the other day,” he says. Because _of course_ _it was Ichi’s doing_ , Yamato thinks as he watches Iori’s expression turn smug right in front of him.

“The next time you use the word ‘urgently’ in a text message, you’re sleeping outside,” Yamato mutters under his breath, which earns him a kind-of-apologetic look from Gaku, though he’s still grinning. He quickly goes to the kitchen, as though he’s hiding a trump card: in fact, he returns with two bags full of beer, which cannot buy Yamato’s forgiveness but are a good starting point. No matter how much he loves beer (damn, is that his favorite one?), he considers himself at least better than Tama, who would overcome any sort of crazy challenges in exchange for free King Pudding.

“I also brought champagne!” Tsunashi claims while happily raising a seemingly expensive bottle wrapped up in a bow. Kujou and Nagi both sigh, knowing perfectly how it’ll end. Anesagi just shakes her head disapprovingly, although everyone knows that she’s actually one of the worst drunk ever herself. 

“Well, aren’t we missing someone?” Yamato says to change the topic.

“Momo-san and Yuki-san will arrive any minute now. We wanted to celebrate Yuki-san, too,” Kujou answers, calmly ignoring Minami’s “ _Did we?_ ” in the background. “However, Momo-san said they would be running a little late…”

“Maybe they’re celebrating in their own… way,” Mido comments with a slight grin, which prompts Inumaru to cover Isumi’s ears at once and Minami to make a disgusted noise, while Tamaki goes, “Like what? Playing videogames together?”

“Yotsuba-san, that’s just what _you_ would do,” Iori points out.

“Well, yeah, ‘cause it’s fun. And Yukirin looks like he could be good at Wii games, he’s lazy but he could play on the sofa, and he’s got nice moves.”

“I suddenly want to play Wii games,” Riku says. “I’m really good at it, since I couldn’t play any real sports outside. I can even beat Tenn-nii! Though he’s really good at everything…”

“Riku’s better than me at most of it,” Tenn answers, with unmistakable affection in his eyes.

“Touma, can you leave me alone? Aren’t we just talking about Wii games anyway?” Isumi interjects angrily. Inumaru releases him with a deep sigh, then glares at Mido, who shrugs it off, totally unaffected.

“Isumin, can you play any Wii game?”

“You bet I can play anything better than Kujou Tenn! Definitely!”

“Somehow I doubt it.”

“Another thing we’re all very good at is going off topic rather quickly,” Mitsuki comments with the wisdom of a practiced _tsukkomi_. Yamato has to agree with him fully; it’s already difficult to stay on the topic when there’re only seven people involved, let alone when they come all together like this. Then the door rings, announcing Re:vale’s arrival, and it becomes obvious that there’s going to be even more ruckus soon.

Momo’s the first one who steps in, carrying one bag of food for each arm and wearing the most flamboyant hoodie Yamato’s ever seen. “Momo-chan’s here! Were you lonely without me~?” he says loudly, with laugher in his voice. Tamaki immediately jumps at him, though Yamato’s not sure if it’s for him or the food. Okazaki enters right after, all wrapped up in a scarf, commenting on the cold weather outside and apologizing for bringing a bit of mud inside the house – Yamato reassures him that it doesn’t matter, because Musashi will sweep in like a hero and clean it all later.

Yuki’s the last to come in, stupidly beautiful even though he’s wearing a plain overcoat and a white sweater. His hair are softly, messily braided – probably by Momo himself- and his nose and cheeks are all red. He starts complaining right away about the cold, but his sour mood completely vanishes when he notices that Banri’s here too; he immediately laces at him despite Banri’s attempts to keep him away by grabbing his wife instead – at least Tsumugi seems to be amused by it all. Yamato stares at them for a while, then looks at Gaku, finding him too preoccupied with the food to notice what Tsumugi, Banri and Yuki are doing (he hates that he still feels relief for something like that).

He gets closer, asking, “Can I help too…?”, which somehow prompts Momo to jump at him and squeezing him in such a sudden, messy hug that he nearly makes his glasses fall.

“Yamato!! Congratulations!! Of course Matsukawa’s my favorite, but Yoichi was so cool too! I ended up cheering for you even though Yuki’s such a hunk~” Momo exclaims, patting his head like a child. Although he doesn’t push him away as he would if it was Yuki – he’s always had a bit of a weakness for Momo – Yamato attempts to protest, only to be interrupted by Gaku.

“Momo-san, where do I put this?” He says, the clears his throat awkwardly. Yamato doesn’t get why he’s asking Momo, since this is his house to begin with, but for some reason Momo seems to find this incredibly amusing. He quickly releases Yamato while laughing and saying, “Oooh, I get it, I get it! Sorry!”, then starts patting Gaku’s head instead. Like a puppy. Gaku mumbles a warning ‘ _Senpai_ ’ under his breathe, but doesn’t get away either. Instead, when he looks up and meets Yamato’s eyes, he blushes a bit and looks away, almost bashful, as though he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Momo notices.

“Ah, you are all so cute! I feel healed~” he exclaims, and cheerfully pats Gaku more. Yamato’s utterly puzzled by what’s going on. This time around, Gaku moves away from Momo’s hand, clears up his throat once again, and then announces, “I’m going to… put things in the fridge,” before promptly leaving the room.

Momo smiles and winks at Yamato. “I’m going with him! Enjoy your party, Yamato!” he says, then disappears too without waiting for an answer. Yamato stares after them, scratches his head in confusion, then gives up on it and goes mingling with the others.

It seems that the youngest ones started having a deadass serious conversation about videogames and who’s better at it; meanwhile, Tsunashi, Sougo, Mido, Nagi and Mitsuki started discussing plans for New Year. Yamato decides to join this conversation, only to somehow derail from the topic within minutes and start discussing what to put in their New Year lunch-boxes instead.  Sougo, Mido and Nagi only seem to be able to suggest expensive dishes – though they all agree that Tsunashi and Mitsuki’s cooking is far better. Yamato can only picture himself having _toshikoshi soba_ for New Year, because that’s definitely what Gaku’ll be having. They should get beer, and a cake from _font chocolat_ , too—

“Yamato-kun,” Yuki places a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. Yamato turns abruptly – damn, he was so absorbed he didn’t notice him coming. Is he already done with Banri? He looks around for their ex-manager, but Yuki places himself in his line of sight.

“Sorry, guys, I’m stealing Yamato-kun for a bit,” he says and smiles at the others. They look at him perplexed, but Yuki doesn’t linger on it and  turns to Yamato again.

“I want to have a word with you. Shall we?”

Yamato wants to say no, but by now he knows that Yuki’s not actually asking – in fact, he starts literally  dragging him away as soon as he’s finished speaking. They stop by the kitchen, only to grab two drinks from the table. Yuki offers him one and Yamato looks at the drink suspiciously, then at him.

“It’s just champagne. You know, the one that Ryunosuke bought for the party, he’s so lovely. Momo must have fixed these drinks while we were busy partying,” Yuki explains. It’s a surprisingly normal answer, coming from this guy. Yamato nods and takes the glass offered to him.

 “Huh… then, I’ll respectfully take it. Thanks, I guess…” As he tentatively takes a sip, a fruity, sweet, bubbly flavor spreads in his mouth, tickling his tongue and palate. It’s really good, so he starts to relax, despite the fact that he’s in Yuki’s company and he never knows what to expect from him. Yamato watches him as his _senpai_ sips from his drink, too, and quietly savors the taste.

Then Yuki lowers his glass, inhales softly and asks, “So, have you actually seen our drama yet?”

Again, it’s surprisingly normal. Yamato doesn’t know what to say, so he just says the truth.

 “Yeah, yeah, I did.” He never watches his own dramas and movies and he didn’t intend to this time either, but this time he was fooled into it twice – first by Yaotome, then by his _kouhai_.

“Well, what did you think about it?”

“Well, it’s a dreadful story,” Yamato states, matter-of-factly, then something comes to his mind and he can’t help the small smile forming on his lips. “Oh, this reminds me— everyone wanted to punch the lights out of you, _senpai_. It was actually really funny.”

Indeed, Matsukawa’s behavior did not only outrage Yaotome, but everyone in Idolish, too. They started out normally, but, as the plot unraveled, Yamato found himself more and more surrounded by his friends, as though cuddling up to him would protect him from all evil in this world. Amidst the stream of tears, Nagi even swore to avenge him. Yamato felt like no one’s ever been more loved than him.

“Really? Momo cried a lot. He said he wanted to save Matsukawa. As I thought, Momo must be an angel,” Yuki says, his eyes twinkling with love. Yamato secretly stares at him, wondering what’s going on in his head, but he’s not able to read anything else on his face.

They stay quiet for a while, listening to the noise coming from the living room. Leaving Tenn and Isumi in the same room was probably a mistake, as well as Nagi and Minami (who’re apparently sworn enemies like the mongoose and the cobra), but at least Inumaru and Mido are behaving – once they left aside their rivalities, ZOOL can actually be quite friendly. This must be Momo’s plan to make everyone get along with each other and forcefully create more connections; not everyone seems to enjoy it, but then again, it’s hard to say something to him, given his personality (and he’s been so long by Yuki’s side that he’s apparently starting to learn the art of selective hearing from him).

Yuki grabs his arm so abruptly that he almost spills some drops of champagne on his shirt.

“Let’s go on the balcony, shall we?” Yuki suggests, smiling, although he hates the cold. He seems to have other things on his mind right now, and he promptly drags him outside.

It’s also weird that no one’s come to interrupt them yet. Yamato wonders if Yuki asked Momo not to. Now that he thinks of it, Momo was supposed to be in the kitchen with Gaku, but right now he sees no sign of them anywhere – it’s almost like Momo’s keeping Gaku, and maybe anyone else, away from him. 

They go out in the balcony and both of them softly shiver from the cold, yet Yuki doesn’t complain, nor does he say that  he wants to go back inside. Yamato thinks that Yuki’s acting kind of strange – a different kind of strange from the usual. His gut feeling is confirmed when the other takes out a folded piece of paper from his jeans and holds it out to him.

“ _He_ asked me to give it you. It’s a cellphone number,” he says, and waits for Yamato to take it while staring at him fixedly. It’s making him nervous. Yamato sighs and hesitantly takes it.

“Does he want me to contact him now? Why? He never called me back after that one time.”

Then, feeling like he can’t hold Yuki’s gaze anymore, Yamato raises his head and looks up at the night sky. It’s been almost two years since he called his father to ask him to retire from work, so that he could continue living in the light. Maybe he expected him to call him again – only now he realizes it. So much for not having any expectations on that man. It seems like he can’t help it, can’t erase the child inside of him who considers Shizuo his hero. He starts drinking more – he’s definitely not drunk enough yet to be having this conversation.

“You don’t have to call him now,” Yuki reassures him and, for once, it looks like he’s not blindly siding with Shizuo. Yamato lowers his eyes just a bit, only to find out that Yuki’s staring at the sky, too. Maybe the moonlight’s making him a bit melancholic, because his voice is somehow mellow, softer than usual.

“Think of it as a chance. A connection. You can make the choice whenever you feel ready,” Yuki says, calmly. “Of course, opening up your heart to others is always a risk. But, personally, I think that you have nothing to be afraid of. Not anymore.”

“Yuki-san. What did you think about this drama?” The words are out before he realizes – he’s just suddenly felt the urge to ask him. It’s kind of unfair to ask him, since he avoids giving an answer himself, and for a moment he half-expects Yuki to tease him and avoids the question, too.

“I thought that Matsukawa is really a pitiful man,” Yuki says, instead, and shrugs. “But I wish he had chosen to live. There’s nothing more appalling than feeling responsible for the loss of your treasured one, nothing more shattering than the loneliness and the guilt… but I still selfishly hoped he wouldn’t give up. That he would pay for his crimes and move on.”

Then, Yuki smiles and his face glows, just like the moonlight itself, leaving Yamato so entranced by him that he forgets to finish his champagne.

“After all, we all have to live carrying our own weight. What life is all about is finding someone who will make that weight more bearable, little by little, so that we can keep moving forward.”

Yamato thinks about it for a moment, surprised, then gives a hint of a smile.

“Our weight, huh… _Senpai_ , you do say some pretty decent things, sometimes.”

“Thank you, Yamato-kun,” Yuki says, unfazed. They stay quiet for a moment, then after a beat Yuki opens his mouth again. Yamato already knows what he wants and he’s already prepared to deny him ( _No, Yuki-san, you’re not getting unblocked just for that_ —), but (luckily?) for him Minami Natsume steps into the balcony right at this moment.

“Ah, here you are, Yamato-san. I was afraid that _senpai_ had been hogging you all to yourself and I was right. _Senpai_ , the other guests have the right to talk with him too, you know? He’s the star of the evening after all,” Minami says politely, but his smile towards Yuki is cold and nothing short of terrifying. Yuki stares back at him with the same quiet aggressiveness, unwilling to lose his ground against him.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I am the star, too.”

“Ah, right. That role was so fitting for you, _senpai_! I really wanted to punch you in the face, you know?” Minami cheerfully says, and by now Yamato’s starting to think that Momo’s the only fan Matsukawa has, though Momo might be slightly biased. Judging from the absurd number of fan mails that Yuki gets every day, there’re also zillions of fans ready to die for him. So, yeah.

Minami and Yuki are still smiling at each other, except they’re not _really_ smiling and it’s terrifying.

“Uhm, I should… I should go back inside,” Yamato says, trying so hard to change the subject that it sounds pathetic even to his own ears. Minami recognizes it for an attempt to get out of this awkward situation and give him an enigmatic, sort-of-nice smile.

“Speaking of which, I was under the impression that Yaotome-san had been looking for you, Yamato-san,” he says, and Yamato nods a little too enthusiastically.

“Oh, really? Well, better go seeing what he wants. Yep. Gotta go.” He turns around, but before he can leave he hears Yuki’s voice behind his back.

“Please think about what I said, Yamato-kun,” Yuki whispers, so soft that Yamato could easily pretend he didn’t hear it. Instead, he stops for a moment, nods once, then hurries back inside. Minami and Yuki follow him at their own pace, while bickering as usual in a polite tone. Scary.

Once he’s back into the salon, Yamato discovers that he’s been betrayed and that everyone started drinking without him – Momo seems to be persuading everyone who can to drink and is carrying out his mission perfectly by filling every empty glass to the brim. Looking around, Yamato spots Gaku sitting on the sofa in the corner, holding a glass of beer that’s already been emptied by half and looking fairly lost; then their eyes somehow meet among the crowd, and Gaku’s whole face brightens up at once.

“Hey, Yamato!” He calls, “Come here, come here!”

Yamato obliges, as he has no reason not to. As soon as he reaches him, he gives him a questioning look and says, “Minami told me you were you looking for me…?”

Gaku hums something affirmative while his free hand slips into Yamato’s. In the next ten seconds, Yamato figures out that there isn’t any other reason why Gaku’s been asking for him but _this_.

“God, you’re such a _sap_ ,” Yamato mutters, his face going aflame as his not-so-innocent _kouhai_ starts cooing and cheering them on at the gesture. Gaku doesn’t seem to be affected by it at all, though his face’s a bit flushed; Yamato wonders if it’s because he’s a little drunk already – Gaku doesn’t drink much around others, but when he does, he gets clingy and a little whiny, if not childish.

Well, it’s not like Yamato’s got any complaints. In fact, despite the fact that they’re in public and it’s embarrassing as hell, when Gaku turns his head slightly and presses his face into his hip, Yamato doesn’t complain at all. He feels way too warm for it. Then Momo notices that he’s not drinking and promptly makes up for it by handing him a glass full of beer and, well, who’s him to say no to beer. Following the others’ example, he starts drinking at full speed, to the point when he doesn’t even mind Gaku dragging him on his lap, hugging him from behind and falling asleep just like that. He doesn’t seem to mind the fact that his living room is full of people watching them or all the noise they’re making – it always ends up in a ruckus whenever they all get together like this. Yamato himself only vaguely listens to the voices surrounding them, although something seems to be happening: apparently, Isumi collapsed against Tenn at some point through the evening.

“Haru, are you okay?!”

“Hm, shut up, Touma—” Isumi mumbles, his cheeks so red and his words so slurred that everyone figures out at once that he must have drunk by mistake. He hugs Tenn’s arm and presses further into his body. “Wow, this pillow is so nice,” he sighs dreamily, not even realizing he’s leaning heavily on his so-called rival. Tenn looks quite embarrassed at that, but he doesn’t try to push him away (he might have a bigger soft spot for Isumi then he usually lets on). Minami giggles as he snaps a photo at the two, commenting on how cute Isumi is, and naturally doesn’t lift a finger to help them. Mido looks at his own glass, only half-full. “Shit,” he exclaims, “I think he might have drunk mine”, which is followed by Inumaru sighing in exasperation and scolding him about carelessly leaving his glass around. Mido looks happy at that for some reason – these guys are so weird. ZOOL are so weird. Yamato almost laughs remembering the times when people thought they were seriously dangerous, and allows himself to relax in Gaku’s hold.

 

 

*

 

 

At some point during the night, Yamato wakes up and discovers that he’s fallen asleep right after Gaku, and that the two of them have somehow rolled in a horizontal position, maybe trying to be more comfortable. When he attempts to stretch out his legs and lift himself up a little, he also finds that Gaku’s been hugging him in his sleep _again_ – their legs are tangled and Gaku’s arms are wrapped across his chest, safely encasing him against Gaku’s chest. It’s rather impossible to move without waking him up and Gaku does indeed stir up a bit when Yamato tries to roll on his side, despite the position, to look around the room.

Just as he imagined, everyone ended up falling asleep, too, in Gaku’s living room. He spots Riku and Tama at once, each one clinging to one of Iori’s arms, while Sogo’s using Tama’s stomach as a pillow and Mitsuki’s pressed against his side. Nagi’s huddled up against Tsunashi’s side and Tsunashi has his arm around Nagi’s back (Yamato feels like he’s missing something here – when did this happen?). Inumaru rolled on his back in his sleep, stretching an arm across Mido’s chest. Minami might have claimed the spot on the armchair, like the sly guy he is. Haruka’s been sleeping practically on top of Tenn for half the evening and it seem that he’s still doing that; perhaps what’s most surprising is that Tenn didn’t do anything to avoid this. Yamato just has to roll around a bit more to spot Re:vale cuddling each other and a plant in the corner. He doesn’t know why Yuki likes that plant so much – he hopes he doesn’t want to eat it in his sleep.

Watching everyone sleep in the same room like this gives him a weird, but not unpleasant, feeling. It’s like when you’re a child and you built your own fortress in your room, using pillows and blankets and bringing in whatever you want; you bring your favorite doll, or your favorite book and a torch to read in the dark, and then you let the blanket fall like a curtain on you. It doesn’t matter if anyone enters the room in that time, it doesn’t matter if anyone calls you from the outside. As long as you’re inside with all your favorite thing huddled up together, your new secret base becomes your whole world. And there’s this feeling of peace, serendipity even. At times you may bring in your favorite people and right then, right here, you are the only people existing in the world and everything is so dreamily, magically perfect.

Gaku’s nose softly presses between his shoulder blades as he mumbles out his name, as naturally as breathing, and Yamato thinks he finally gave himself a place to belong.

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

Several days later, he finds himself staring at the telephone number that Yuki has given him – this is now the only contact he has with his father, and it could potentially become the basis for a bridge between them.

Maybe he will call him and tell him about IDOLiSH7, about Gaku, and mostly about himself. Maybe not. Maybe one day.

One day, Yamato tells himself. One day he will be brave enough, strong enough. He knows now that day will surely come soon.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

He goes to the shrine with only Idolish’s members, then they all celebrate New Year together. Tsunashi and Mitsuki make lunch-boxes for everyone, Iori brings _mochi_ and other delicacies from the Izumi’s bakery shop, and Mido even buys them the most expensive _sake_ they’ll probably ever have in their life. This time around, Inumaru and Tenn wisely prevent Isumi from having any - as he loudly complains about being treated like a baby (… _by Kujou Tenn!_ ), Tenn even pops a _mochi_ from his own precious share into his mouth to shut him up (and it actually works. Isumi must be a sweet tooth, too, or he’s just embarrassed). At some point, ZOOL depart from them and claim they’re going to visit the shrine by themselves too – it seems rather important to them and, for some reason, Inumaru’s got tears in his eyes and his voice’s slightly choked as he says it. Maybe it’s the strong _sake_ burning his throat.

After ZOOL leave, they stay quiet for a while. Then Gaku says, softly, “Let’s go to our flat,” and Yamato doesn’t have to make _toshikoshi soba_ for him at all because Gaku ends up making it himself, for everyone.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

The thing is, he will always be ‘IDOLiSH7’s Nikaidou Yamato’.

Even after you leave the nest, it doesn’t mean that you have to forget it – no matter what they do, if they’re together or separated, IDOLiSH7 will never really end for any of them. Ever since Tsumugi chose that name for them, they’ve become responsible for each other and shared this weight together. Nagi said it too, he finds himself thinking, smiling to himself as he remembers those times. As long as everyone continues to believe in it, this bond – this nest – will be revived over and over again, just like the sun and the moon keep changing in the sky. Just like seasons pass and make gardens bloom all over again.

And when you leave your nest, you can build another. Yamato’s been slowly learning that he can have more than one nice thing, and he rather likes it.  

Around Yamato’s birthday, the snow’s already starting thawing. The weather’s not warm yet, but he doesn’t feel that cold either anymore – and it’s not just because he spends every available moment napping under the _kotatsu_ , seeking warmth against Gaku’s body when he joins him. It’s not just because Gaku gets him _ochakuze_ and a shortcake instead of chocolate, and he feels so warm and mellow that he lets Gaku have all the strawberries. 

He doesn’t think he could feel any more bliss, yet the future promises so much more.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

Yamato finally decides to unblock Yuki on a Sunday morning, as he finds himself in such a state of bliss that he feels that nothing could disturb his peace of mind.

Lately, he’s been waking up full of good feelings every day, to the point he started buying plants to put on their balcony and taking care of them. It’s nothing like a real garden, of course, but he’s quite fond of this little green space he’s created. Even now, as he fixes some leaves, waters the pots and stares at the flowers starting to bud, he feels all warm and satisfied.

Yuki sends a message about five minutes later, and it’s a picture of a dove sitting in her nest, captioned only as ‘ _you_ ’, with a happy emoji.

Figures.

 

 

 

**end.**

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> some minor context details i couldn't put in:  
> \- Idolish's solo carriers are as they follow: Yamato > actor; Nagi > model; Mitsuki > TV presenter and celebrity; Riku > idol; Iori > idol manager (probably still working at Takanashi's); Sougo & Tamaki > idol duo as MEZZO"  
> \- kujou disappeared after riku's popularity skyrocketed like zero's (he won't be missed); tenn still retains the surname, though, bc of several reasons. also, aya still lives with him.  
> \- re:vale probably pressed charges against tsukumo for A LOT OF THINGS, but tsukumo bailed out of jail bc of money and then ran away to some island where he's evading taxes and no one's ever heard of him again  
> \- ZOOL are free and doing whatever they want and finally happy like they deserve  
> \- sousuke doesn't know. yet
> 
> interesting note: Youichi’s name can be written as 祥一, where 祥 can stand for: auspicious, happiness, blessedness, good omen, good fortune (the irony of it). Matsukawa is written as 松川, where 川 stands for: stream, river.


End file.
